


Trapped

by TempestuousSerenity



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Comedy, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Desert Island Fic, Friendship, Gen, Korosensei and Karasuma are an A+ brotp, a little bit of angst thrown in there because it's me and I couldn't resist, human!korosensei, ok actually it's a pretty sizeable amount of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-04-04 00:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14008668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempestuousSerenity/pseuds/TempestuousSerenity
Summary: Karasuma Tadaomi isn't particularly fond of his assassination target and coworker, Korosensei. When the two are stranded on a deserted island in the vast Pacific, Karasuma isn't sure how much more of his target's antics he can take. However, if they don't work together, they may never escape the island.





	1. Stranded

Karasuma Tadaomi, always the valedictorian of his class and a military-man through-and-through, was believed by some to be completely impervious to pain. Regardless of the training method or the impossible circumstances, he could take them all head-on without even working up a sweat.

That's why, when the seemingly indestructible tank of a man awoke groggily to a cranium-splitting headache, he was fairly alarmed. His fuzzy memory and blurry eyesight only exacerbated the feeling. Had he been drugged? How could he have allowed something so elementary to best  _him_ , of all people? Where even  _was_  he?

Gritting his teeth and forcing his eyes into focus against the excruciating pain, he observed the interior of a decimated plane's fuselage. Half of it was missing, leaving a gaping hole that allowed harsh daylight to stream in, blinding Karasuma and causing him to clutch at his throbbing head.

He made to get up and hobble to the exit, but realized he was restricted by his seatbelt, which currently kept him in place and was the only thing keeping him from falling to his death. Only now did Karasuma realize that the plane was  _upside down._  What had once been the floor, was now the ceiling, Karasuma's seat included. With his arms and legs dangling below him, the man looked below him and had to admit that if he unbuckled himself now, nothing but an unrelenting floor would meet him.

Once his vision had cleared enough to indicate to him that outside the remains of the fuselage lurked a dense jungle, he carefully took hold of a nearby pole welded securely to the plane's body. Cautiously, he unbuckled the seatbelt and sucked in a breath as his body fell free, until his arms finally pulled taut to halt his descent. His legs dangled beneath him, but nothing seemed to be broken. Good.

After some calculations, he dropped to the floor, rolling skillfully to minimize the impact of the drop. Then he picked himself up and grunted as he walked to the gaping rent in the metal fuselage. The tropical sunlight and the intense, humid heat that accompanied it hit him like a brick wall, but he didn't falter, only squinted. Raising his hand to his forehead to act as a visor, he scanned the situation, and bit by bit it was all coming back to him.

_"Ahhh~! Trips are so exciting, wouldn't you say so, Karasuma-sensei?"_

_Karasuma Tadaomi, ever the stony one, only grunted in response._

_"It's been so long since I've been in a plane—boy, you can see everything from up here! I'd almost forgotten! And the clouds look so fluffy, too. Don't you just want to reach out and touch them, Karasuma-sensei?"_

_"You can't touch clouds," the straight-laced man deadpanned, not humored in the slightest._

_The yellow, smiley-faced monster sitting across from him pouted indignantly. "Well I know_ that _," he said, returning his gaze to the window. "But what if you could? I bet it would taste like cotton candy! Mmmm, cotton candy…"_

 _Karasuma resisted the urge to massage his temples. Why, oh_ why _, had he been assigned such a mission? Without any explanation, whatsoever, his boss had suddenly ordered him to take a damn "vacation" with his frivolous assassination target._

_"You always work so tirelessly. Why not take a break every now and then?" his boss had suggested, but his presentation didn't fool the military-man. This was an order. "And why not with your coworker, no less. It may even present the perfect opportunity to finally kill him!"_

_Pfft, "coworker." Karasuma could almost scoff at the notion. That frivolous, unprofessional octopus? Hardly._

_"Will I be meeting with someone at the destination?" he had inquired. A sniper, perhaps, like the time in Kyoto._

_"Not exactly," his superior had replied, a glint in his eye. "You'll know when you get there."_

_Now, Karasuma was on a private plane going who knows where, with nothing but the vast Pacific and his idiotic "coworker" in sight._

_"Oh my GOD!" said nuisance suddenly pealed, jerking the expressionless man from his reverie. "How did you get your hands on this? This isn't supposed to be released until 3 months from now!"_

_Karasuma deftly observed the suspiciously pink DVD cover in his target's tentacles. "This plane was supplied by the government. Is it really any surprise that they would have it stocked with unreleased films?"_

_"The perks of the privileged," Korosensei remarked, shaking his head and gleefully inserting the DVD into the player. In doing so, Karasuma finally caught the title of the movie, "Petals of Love." Oh God._

_Half an hour later and with more than enough of his target's fanboying to last a lifetime, it could honestly be called a miracle that the disciplined man had been able to last that long._

_"Hey, Octopus."_

_Korosensei's beady eyes never left the screen. "Nyu?"_

_"Exactly how long is this movie?" To be honest, Karasuma was afraid to know the answer._

_Korosensei waved a tentacle dismissively in Karasuma's direction. "Emotionally-constipated guys like you don't need to worry. It's only 3 hours."_

_ONLY 3 HOURS?! There were 2 and a half more hours of this? Karasuma was about to excuse himself for a 2-and-a-half-hour bathroom break when God finally decided to have mercy on the poor man._

_Korosensei paused the film and sped to the kitchen and back in less than a second, snacks in hand. The only thing was, he kept changing his mind about the snacks, and continued to practically teleport from room to room until he decided to just stay in the kitchen until he figured out what he wanted to eat._

_Karasuma finally exhaled, a long, relieved sigh. A moment's peace was all he needed._

_And a moment was all he got. His supposedly God-given respite lasted not even 5 seconds, as the plane shuddered violently and its nose began to dip._

_The plane was falling, falling fast, and as Karasuma whipped his head to the window he saw that they were far too low already. It was all he could do to buckle his seat belt and brace himself before the bone-shattering impact._

Karasuma massaged his temples, his frown deepening as it often did in trying circumstances. He'd seen it all—countries torn by civil war, nuclear weapons, missile threats, assassins—but  _this._

This.

Boy, what a mess he'd gotten himself into this time.

The first course of action would be to survey his surroundings and find out where  _this_  even  _was._ He'd also have to locate his target, who must be unconscious or dead if he hadn't already used his superhuman abilities to bring help. He made his way to a box laying haphazardly on the ceiling-turned-floor of the plane, retrieving a nasty looking machete.

Despite his condition, Karasuma could navigate the dense rainforest quite easily with parkour, not even in need of the machete he brought along. He soon found himself on a sun-drenched beach, bleached white by the burning orb that bore down from above. He had half a mind to follow the waterline to assert whether this was truly a deserted island or not, but he decided that his target was of the utmost importance at this point.

Diving back into the dense jungle, he discovered remnants of the dismembered plane strewn about, and he followed their trail until he found the other half of the fuselage, this one containing the pilot's cabin and kitchen. Aside from structural differences, it was in much the same condition of his own half.

"Octopus!" He called, the lonely sound echoing off the tall and silent trees. His shoes crunched on plane parts and snapped tree branches. "Octopus!"

"In here!" the familiar voice called back, and Karasuma was unsure of whether to be joyful or dismayed at his target's apparent survival.

Karasuma followed the voice until it led him into the darkened fuselage. "Octopus?"

"Down here!" the voice replied, and Karasuma could feel his irritation mount as his eyes fell upon the small, orblike appearance of his target, safe and cozy inside a protective ball. While Karasuma was battered and bruised, Korosensei was without a scratch, thanks to his absolute defense form.

"Karasuma-sensei! I thought I'd never see you again!" Two rivers of tears fell from his beady eyes.

Karasuma felt a vein bulge. He _wished_. "What the hell are you doing?!" he demanded.

"Nyu?"

"You can't fly off and get help like that!"

Korosensei pouted. "How mean, Karasuma-sensei! If not for this form, I could be dead."

Karasuma only stamped his foot angrily in response. As he gazed down the compartment, he could see that from the looks of things, the cabin, along with the pilot, were far beyond salvaging. That is, along with the radio and all other communications devices. Of course, there was no cell phone service out here, either.

"It's a shame about the pilot," Korosensei said, eyes somber. "I'm afraid that thanks to the anti-sensei material that lined the cockpit and the plane's exterior, I was unable to save both pilot and plane."

Karasuma nodded. He hadn't known the pilot well, but he had seen him a few times before. The poor man probably had a family of his own to get back to.

"I can fly off to get help after my absolute defense wears off in 24 hours," Korosensei offered, attempting to break through the hopeless atmosphere. "24 hours isn't bad. It will be like a camping trip."

"First, we'll have to make sure this really is a deserted island," Karasuma said. "If we're lucky there may be people here."

"Perhaps," Korosensei conceded, but in truth the two men could feel that they really were alone, stranded on some unmarked island in the middle of the Pacific.

Karasuma looked back towards the cockpit. "Let's bury him before anything else," Karasuma suggested. "He may attract prowling animals in the night."

Korosensei nodded. "Indeed. Let's."

* * *

Standing around the mound that now covered the dead pilot, the two teachers offered their final prayers. Karasuma had done the best that he could to carefully untangle the deceased man from the mangled cockpit, but the man's injuries were as equally severe as the plane's. Despite this, Karasuma believed he had done a decent job of making the corpse presentable before lowering him into the trench he had dug. It wasn't the deepest, but it would have to do.

After cleaning himself up in a nearby stream, Karasuma began to root around for commodities in the plane, stuffing them into a bag. When he had collected a satisfying amount, he slung the bag over his shoulder and picked up Korosensei without much care. On the way back to the beach, they discovered another stream, confirmed by Karasuma to be running clean with freshwater, and after filling a canteen, the two were back on their way.

It took only a few hours to walk along the shore and end up back at their starting place. Since it seemed to be confirmed that this was well and truly a deserted island, they made camp on the beach as dusk began to fall. It had been a real struggle to locate dry wood, but Karasuma procured enough for a small fire, the flame the only light source for hundreds of miles, aside from the light cast by the moon and the pricks of brightness that were stars.

"I wonder if anyone knows we're gone yet?" Korosensei asked no one in particular, his beady eyes half closed as he was lulled to sleep by the steady flame. How Karasuma envied his safety. In that little ball his target was impervious to even a nuclear blast, and could fall asleep reassured, yet Karasuma had to worry about wild animals that could be lurking about. The infuriating thing was that he  _knew_  Korosensei knew all that, yet the octopus was allowing himself to drift off.

"I'm sure they're starting to wonder why we never arrived at the airport," Karasuma answered, expertly concealing his envy. "They're probably assimilating search parties as we speak, but even with experts, it will be a while until they find us. The Pacific is vast, after all."

Korosensei yawned. "And that's why it will be faster to find them first. Tomorrow."

Karasuma nodded. It would be a long night, but once the octopus' absolute defense wore off, salvation would be well on its way.


	2. Good Intentions

The only sound in the vast darkness was the gentle lapping of waves against sand and the soft rustling of palm leaves. The moon by this point was well overhead, bathing the tropical setting in an ethereal silver light.

Karasuma Tadaomi, however, did not allow his idyllic surroundings to lull him into a false sense of security. His situation was anything but ideal.

Stoking the fire and adding branches occasionally to keep the flame alive, Karasuma remained vigilant, his eyes peeled and his ears strained for even the slightest of noises. There was no telling what sort of nocturnal predators might be lurking about, and seeing as his target had dumped the responsibility on him, he had no choice but to be the watchman.

Speaking of his target, Karasuma glanced across at the infamous octopus himself, sleeping peacefully in his protective orb. It was incredibly aggravating to behold such a sight, his target all safe and sound in his absolute defense form, while Karasuma had no choice but to fend for himself. He obviously wouldn't be getting any assistance from his target.

All the same, sleep tugged at the man before he could push the feeling down, and he found himself wishing for nothing more than a wink of sleep. He berated himself immediately. When had he become so soft? Back in the academy, he could stay perfectly conscious and alert for 48 hours straight during a mission, as proven by the academy's rather intense, and realistic, training methods. If need be, he could even stay conscious for 72 hours in that sort of situation, though his physical and cognitive abilities would be severely depleted by then.

The only instances in which Karasuma had pulled any all-nighters recently were when he had more of those ridiculous reports to file. Honestly, when he had enrolled in the academy, he had assumed that his graduation would signal the beginning of a career in which he could actively protect the country he loved. Now he was stuck teaching middle schoolers by day, and by night, filing report after report that never changed in the slightest. What had happened to that grand dream he once held?

"Hey, Octopus," he said, piercing the thick silence that blanketed the island.

Korosensei didn't stir.

"Octopus." He tried again.

Of course, no response.

Karasuma got to his feet and stretched. His muscles were starting to feel the strain of the day's ordeal, but he paid the aches and pains little mind. He trudged over to where his target sat in the sand on the opposite side of the fire, and knelt beside him.

"Hey, wake up," he prodded, tapping the clear orb that shielded his target from danger. "It's your turn to keep watch."

The only response was a light snore.

Incensed, Karasuma took Korosensei in his hands and shook him violently, but it proved futile. Nothing could wake the cephalopod as long as he remained in that form.

In a huff, Karasuma dropped his target to the ground and trudged back to his spot, opposite the fire. This damn assignment, this  _damn_  target of his, were wearing down his energy and patience. That had to be it. That had to be why he could no longer easily go 48 hours without sleep in these sorts of circumstances. If only that frivolous target of his could learn to be a little more serious for once, Karasuma thought, his life wouldn't be nearly as trying.

Karasuma stared at the smoldering fire, letting the searing flames reflect in his dark eyes. His mind churned. The octopus acting serious?

Like that could ever happen.

* * *

The sun was nearly overhead when Korosensei finally opened his eyes, only to behold not the peaceful tropical scenery, but a rather large and glowering Karasuma, who was, incidentally, staring right at him.

Needless to say, waking up to an angry Karasuma, expression dark from lack of sleep, is not the best way to start your day. Korosensei immediately snapped his eyes shut.

It was far too late for any of that, though.

"You're finally awake," Karasuma remarked none too kindly, having noticed his target's open eyes.

Korosensei slowly cracked open an eye. "Good morning, Karasuma-sensei," he said cautiously. He didn't know what exactly he'd done to make his coworker this irate, but since he could think of quite a few things off the top of his head, he thought it was safe to say that he had royally screwed up somewhere along the line.

"I hope you at least had a good night's sleep."

Korosensei wasn't fooled. Those words were dripping with malice.

"Ah…ahaha," he chuckled nervously, avoiding the question that was a landmine waiting to be stepped on.

Karasuma only glared at him. "You didn't wake up last night for your turn to guard."

"S-sorry. I was pretty beat yesterday…you know, since my absolute defense saps a lot of my energy."

Karasuma nodded, but the look on his face made it apparent that the explanation was anything but accepted.

Korosensei directed his eyes toward the sand. Of course Karasuma was mad. Karasuma didn't have a protective ball to shield him from harm in the event of a plane-crash. He didn't have someone to carry him through the dense jungle in search of food and water. He didn't have another person to set the fire. He didn't have another person to help him keep watch at night. He did that all himself, while Korosensei could only sit there uselessly.

"Karasuma-sensei, I really am sorry. I really was drained before, though, and I couldn't help it—ʺ

Karasuma only turned his back to him and laid down on his side. "There's still a few more hours before you revert back to normal, so just do me a favor and keep watch until then. I'm getting some sleep."

Korosensei wanted to say something to justify himself, but he knew that further words would only infuriate his coworker. Instead he offered a dejected "ok" and glued his eyes to the scene. From what he'd seen of the island so far, though, it was unlikely that anything dangerous would come prowling around the shore in broad daylight. His purpose for keeping watch was more to watch for any ships that may come near, as unlikely as that was.

It wasn't long before Karasuma's breathing had deepened to the point where it left no doubt: the man was well and truly asleep. He was doubtless a light sleeper though, so Korosensei took care to not make any sounds.

Korosensei felt terrible for subjecting Karasuma to this. Karasuma was really such a skilled person, and he handled the crisis situation of crash-landing on an island exceptionally well, considering. In his absolute defense form, Korosensei realized he was only a hindrance to Karasuma.

Somehow, it always ended up like this. No matter what he did, it aggravated Karasuma, or it dragged him down in some way. Korosensei never wanted that! Sure, an occasional joke at the man's expense wasn't exactly out of the question, but with Karasuma being the oh-so-serious, straight-laced sort of guy, he was practically inviting such jests. Even so, Korosensei was never truly trying to make Karasuma's life harder; in fact, he wanted nothing more than to befriend the man. But somehow, his efforts always backfired.

He was torn from his thoughts by the feeling of his body reverting back to normal, his body growing in size and absorbing the pure energy that made up the absolute defense. In under a minute, he stood, towering over the sleeping form of Karasuma.

Just once, he wanted to make it up to Karasuma.

Certainly, going to seek out a rescue party could be postponed. First, an apology was in order.

Korosensei, to the best of his ability in his none-too-stealthy body, crept into the dense forest. He realized rather quickly that this form of his was rather inconvenient for navigating the complex maze of foliage, but he made do, not wanting to alter his current form. As bizarre as it was, he was actually rather fond of it.

Spotting a small grassy-looking plant nestled between some nearby trees, he reached out a tentacle and grasped it, uprooting the plant to reveal a sizable brown root. "As I thought," Korosensei said, assessing the root. "This will taste rather delectable in a bowl of ramen."

That was right; surely a freshly made dish of food, it's ingredients procured directly from the island, would please even Karasuma. Korosensei slowly made his way deeper and deeper into the jungle, pocketing ingredients as he went, already tingling in excitement as he thought about Karasuma's reaction to the dish. At the very least, he thought, it would smooth over any bumps in their relationship that may have formed.

The deeper he went, the more Korosensei noticed the air becoming thicker and more humid with each step he took. Before long, a warm mist hung around him, its fog-like presence blanketing the world in a ghostly white.

Korosensei could feel his pores soaking up the water in the heavy air, his movements becoming slightly sluggish as his limbs swelled with the added moisture.  _A hot spring must be nearby_ , he thought, just as he was about to turn and go back the way he came.

However, he came to a stop when he remembered something important. A certain plant grew around hot springs in this region, one that, when added to ramen broth, could transform the dish from "just ramen" to "gourmet ramen." Emphasis on the gourmet.

He quickly debated whether or not it was worth it. The plant may not even be there, and his appendages were quickly becoming waterlogged. However, it wouldn't take long, and besides, if he put  _that_  in the soup, even the stoic Karasuma would surely weep tears of bliss. This herb was no joke.

Clinging to that possibility, Korosensei continued toward the hot spring, his eyes peeled for the steaming pool, and hopefully, the plant that would grow at its edges. It wasn't long before both came into sight.

Gleefully, Korosensei reached the pool's edge and evaluated the tiny herbs that grew there. Aside from its distinctive leaves, it was a rather peculiar plant. Despite the scalding water temperature of the spring, which would normally damage a plant's roots, this particular plant thrived on it. Specific to these Pacific regions, it was truly a wonder of nature.

Korosensei pulled at the plant in an effort to uproot it, but it refused to budge. While it was true that the leaves were to be used in the broth, the root was also essential to the recipe. He had to have both.

Mindful of the distance between him and the spring, which was a narrow margin indeed, he continued to pull at the plant, but his bloated tentacles, combined with the slick moisture on the plant, made the task next to impossible.

"Why, you!" Feeling a flash of anger, Korosensei wrapped his tentacles more tightly around it, and with an almighty pull, the plant sprang free of the ground.

A brief smile of satisfaction crossed the teacher's face, but it just as quickly morphed into an expression of shock and panic as he felt his center of gravity being upended. The force of his pull had proved to be too great, and instead of his tentacles finding purchase on the ground to halt his descent, they only slid on the slippery surface, carrying his body backward as he fell into the hot spring with a tremendous splash.

Panicked, Korosensei struggled to the side of the spring, trying to climb up and out of it, but failing miserably as his slick skin slid uselessly against the rocky sides of the pool. He had to get out of here, or else he would be too waterlogged to move! He wouldn't be able bring a rescue party to the island!

Heck, Karasuma probably wouldn't even come looking for him! He would probably assume that "the octopus" had went on his own to bring help, and had never returned.

That fear made him struggle harder, even though he was trying to compose himself. He feverishly clawed at the sides, but it didn't work. Of course it didn't work, as he had been the one to design himself this way, since a good, weak teacher doesn't have scary claws. Boy, was he regretting that decision, and was trying to remember how to will his body to change for him. He had done it once, so why not again? But of course, he gets flustered in unexpected circumstances, so he could do no such thing. Another flaw he had designed for himself, obviously having no foresight.

Giving up, he sank into the water, all hope lost. At this point, he was probably saturated beyond belief, his head and limbs bloated to gargantuan proportions. He probably wouldn't be able to move if he tried.

But he could.

Rather easily, actually.

Korosensei tried moving his tentacles again, not feeling the burdensome weight that would usually fill his sopping body. In fact, it didn't feel as if his body had absorbed any water at all, as if the warm water was sliding over his skin as it had when he was still human.

Since acquiring his new body, he had been unable to soak like this, as he would absorb the water too fast, which took all the soothing enjoyment out of the experience. He loved his new form, but being unable to bathe or swim was certainly something he missed.

Could it be that this water was different somehow? No, no, no, that couldn't be, he distinctly remembered being swollen and bloated mere seconds before.

He sank into the water, the warmth soothing his suddenly sore body. Despite the perplexing nature of the situation, he found himself indulging in this sorely missed recreation.

What had happened?

He brought a tentacle up for inspection, but he couldn't see it through the steam that hung heavily in the air. Puzzled, he brought a tentacle to brush some hair out of his face.

He stopped short.

Hair?

He didn't _have_  hair.

Feeling that his heart had stopped, he slowly dragged his tentacle down his face, feeling it brush against eyebrows, eyelids, a nose, a mouth, and all the dips and curves that he hadn't possessed for nearly a year.

Now that he thought about it, his tentacles were actually rather hand-shaped for tentacles.

Just to be certain, he ran his hands down his body, and sure enough, everything was there.

Everything  _human_ was there.

The plant that he had pulled out earlier floated lazily by him, and Korosensei watched it go by with a blank stare, recalling how that herb had been the root of all this.

 _Shit_. He paled as the situation finally sank in.

Karasuma was going to kill him.


	3. No Escape

Karasuma hadn't meant to sleep long, but when he opened his eyes, the orange evening sky already loomed above him.

Sitting up, he looked behind him to where he left his target, only to find that the octopus had vanished.

He sighed. If his target wasn't there, then that could only mean that he had already taken off in search of help. That, or the octopus had gotten himself carried off by some animal. However, that was hardly likely, as Korosensei's screeches were loud and Karasuma's ears were sharp, even in sleep. If anything had happened, he would have heard. Without a doubt, the octopus had surely reverted to his normal form, and would be returning soon with a rescue team.

While that was all well and good, a certain fact nagged at Karasuma. It was a little strange that his target hadn't woken him before leaving. While it was true that the danger posed by prowling animals was almost nonexistent in the daytime, it was always better to err on the side of caution. Korosensei was many things, but Karasuma had always observed Korosensei to be the type who was prepared for every circumstance.

Perhaps he had been a little harsh on the octopus earlier. Karasuma didn't regret giving the octopus the cold shoulder for once, since his target deserved it for his always carefree behavior. However, because of his sleep-deprived tirade, it was entirely possible that the octopus had felt inclined to let Karasuma have the sleep he deserved. All the same, Karasuma wished that his target had woken him before leaving. It would have been a disaster if he had slept straight through and into the night.

Stretching, the P.E. teacher of class 3-E stood up and brushed the sand from his clothes. The sunset was mirrored in the vast expanse of sea that met the horizon, the ocean's waves and ripples highlighted in a glowing orange. The sound of waves lapping against the shore was calming, and without the octopus nearby to cause him stress, Karasuma allowed himself to think that the island was a rather beautiful place. It was serene.

When had been the last time he'd been to a beach? It was true that the last time had been on the class trip to the southern island, but that could hardly be classified as a "beach trip" when he spent the entirety of it coordinating assassination plans for use on his ever-so-elusive target. The last time he had went to the beach, simply to enjoy the beach, had been when he couldn't have been more than eight. Had it been 20 years already?

He didn't regret devoting all those years to his work. It had gotten him far in life.

However, perhaps sometimes, these kinds of moments could be nice, too. Just a little.

When his stomach rumbled, Karasuma turned his back to the glorious sunset to assess the woods that were growing darker with each passing minute. It wouldn't be wise to go scavenging at this hour, he thought sourly, turning to the fire.

Luckily, there was still a pile of firewood that had went unused since the night before. It was sitting next to the fire, and, Karasuma found, there was something else next to it. With the encroaching shadows of darkness, it was hard to make out, but it appeared to be food of some kind. Karasuma felt a rare touch of gratitude for the octopus, thinking to leave some food for him. He made haste to light the fire, so that he could fully observe just what it was that had been prepared.

Once smoke began to leak from the pile of combustibles, he noticed that a contraption for hanging food to roast had been set up over the fire. It certainly hadn't been there the night before. It must have been set up by the octopus, and it was surely how his meal had been prepared for him.

As the flame grew to engulf the pyre of scavenged sticks and twigs, the firelight finally made visible the peace offering that had been left for him. It was, unbelievably, ramen, sitting in a bowl made from a halved coconut. Karasuma was surprised for only a minute, but then he remembered who his target was, and he realized he should have expected as much from him.

Just as he was picking up the bowl, intending to hang it back over the flames and reheat it, he noticed a folded leaf that had been sitting under the bowl, kept in place by the bowl's weight. Curiously, he retrieved the leaf and unfolded it.

_Please don't be mad,_ it read.

Karasuma sighed. It was true that a simple bowl of ramen wasn't going repair all the dissension between him and his target, but the octopus had prepared this meal for him, and Karasuma, as much as a Karasuma could, was feeling in rather high spirits, since he was rested now. Besides, thanks to his target's absurd abilities, help would be on its way soon. It could even be said that the octopus was their savior this time around. After all, they would have been  _doomed_  if the octopus couldn't fly off the island and find a search party.

"I'm not mad," he murmured, unsure of why he said it aloud. It wasn't as if the octopus was anywhere nearby to hear it.

"Really? You promise you won't be mad?"

Karasuma started, his heart jumping into his throat.

Frantically searching for the source of the voice, he whipped his head around to see a bush behind him. "Who's there?" he demanded, on his feet and in a defensive stance immediately.

How could he have allowed someone to creep up on him? He hadn't even noticed the bush nearby until it'd spoken.

"Karasuma-sensei, it's me."

Karasuma narrowed his eyes. The bush's voice was oddly familiar, but it was different somehow. Deeper. Karasuma couldn't quite place it.

Karasuma unsheathed the gun from his chest holster, pointing it toward the offending shrub. "How do you know my name? Identify yourself!"

"Karasuma-sensei, there's no need for that!" the bush spluttered, but Karasuma refused to lower his gun. "It's  _me_ , Korosensei."

Karasuma stared agape at the leafy plant before him. There was no way that whoever was hiding in that bush was his target. His target was too  _conspicuous._  The octopus wasn't half as stealthy as whoever  _this_  was.

Karasuma steeled himself. "Then show yourself."

The bush stilled completely. A pregnant silence as vast as the ocean hung between them. "I…I can't do that."

Karasuma felt a vein pulse in his temple. "It's in your best interest to comply. I'm not feeling particularly merciful at the moment."

The bush shuffled. "A-are you sure you're not mad? You seem mad."

Karasuma gripped his gun. "Well, thanks to you, yes, I am," he ground out through gritted teeth.

The bush shrieked, stumbling a few steps backward. "You said you wouldn't be mad!"

"That was about a disagreement between me and my… _colleague_. Now show yourself or I'll shoot!"

"Ah-um, uh," the bush seemed especially flustered but made no move to comply, and Karasuma was well out of patience.

"You have 5 seconds to show yourself before I shoot. One false move, and you're dead before that."

"Ah—wait, Karasuma-sensei!"

"Five."

"Please, let me—ʺ

"Four."

"—explain first!"

"Three."

"Karasuma-sensei!"

"Two."

"Fine!"

"One."

The leaves rustled and twigs snapped as a figure rose from the bush's leafy depths.

By now, darkness had fallen. The firelight fell just short of the mysterious man, obscuring his features from view. Karasuma kept his gun steady. "Now step forward so that I can see you."

Reluctantly, the dark figure stepped into the ring of firelight that surrounded the campfire. His features were suddenly flooded with the orange brightness, making clear the face of one both familiar and unfamiliar.

The man was of average height and build for the most part, with raven hair that was slightly wavy towards the back tickling his nape. His unmistakably goofy robes hung from his lanky frame, and the crescent moon on his tie perfectly matched the one rising in the sky.

Karasuma's steadfast grip on his gun faltered, and he nearly dropped it. He knew this man.

Or rather, knew  _of_  him.

He could remember it perfectly, when he had first been handed the file from his boss.

_"This is your target," his superior said. "Your job is to assassinate him by March, or else this entire planet will explode." He then stared at Karasuma with a great severity. "Karasuma, I am entrusting this task to you, because I trust in your skills more than anyone else's. Don't fail us."_

_Karasuma cordially thanked the man and bowed low to show his gratitude. It wasn't until he arrived at the safety of his home that he afforded the file a second glance._

_Besides the octopus's rather smug mugshot on the first page, there was another, equally smug mugshot on a later page. This one was different, though._

_It had been of a man._

_Apparently, his target had once been the most fearsome assassin in the world. The God of Death._

_There wasn't much else to speak of on the page, just that. It seemed as though the name spoke for itself._

The God of Death.

Karasuma had almost forgotten, that among his target's many faces, one like this existed too.

Perhaps to break up the awkward standstill, the assassin waved nervously at Karasuma.

Karasuma readjusted his grip on his gun, but when he raised it, it was clear that he didn't intend to shoot it. "You're…the octopus, right?"

The assassin's dark eyes hesitantly met Karasuma's. "Yes."

Karasuma lowered his gun but didn't put it back in its holster. The confusion on his face asked his question louder than his voice ever could.

It didn't take a master assassin to decipher what that imploring look meant. "It was an accident," the former assassin supplied. "There was a spring, and I just fell in. The next thing I knew, I had ended up like this."

Karasuma nodded, too shocked to put two and two together quite yet.

"And I, uh…" the former assassin cringed, screwing his eyes shut tightly. "I can't change back." His words were strained, as if Karasuma's stare was a sieve.

For a full minute, Karasuma simply stared at the man once known as the most skilled assassin in the world. The God of Death cautiously cracked open an eye, no doubt to discover why Karasuma's explosive reaction to the news was so belated.

Karasuma could take a lot of things. He had been through horrendous situations that looked hopeless no matter how one diced it. And that was just the training.  
Now, as the sudden dump of information finally began to register, a deep pit of dread began to form in the military man's stomach.

"You…can't change back?"

The octopus-turned-man nodded apprehensively.

"Can you still…?"

The assassin shook his head, anticipating what Karasuma was going to ask.

"So that means that we're…"

"Yeah," the assassin croaked. "We're trapped."

A full minute of silence ensued.

And then mayhem.

* * *

At first, Korosensei felt that he had somehow escaped the terrible wrath of Karasuma. Perhaps the man was simply too shocked to be angry.

This illusion was dispelled the moment a bullet whizzed past the former assassin's ear.

"Octopus." Karasuma began with a forced calm. The calm before the storm."How could you have allowed this to happen?!" Karasuma suddenly roared. He raised his gun and took aim again. "This is all your fault!"

With a screech, Korosensei ducked and rolled out of the way. Though his old body was unfamiliar to him now, he found that his reflexes were still quite sharp, even if they weren't as polished as they used to be.

As Karasuma continued to open-fire, class E's homeroom teacher was forced to frantically leap free of the danger whenever a gunshot was heard. Where bullet met beach, the sand would jump into the air not a few feet from him. Unsurprisingly, Karasuma was an exceptional shot.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Karasuma-sensei, I didn't mean to!" Korosensei pleaded.

When Karasuma's gun ran out of live ammunition, he hastily threw it aside, drawing a second gun loaded with anti-sensei BB's.

As Karasuma shot indiscriminately in his target's direction, a few BB's found their mark.

"Ow!" Korosensei exclaimed. Another soon found his shoulder. "Ow! Karasuma-sensei, stop, it stings!"

Karasuma did not stop, however. Discarding his exhausted pistol, he reached for his anti-sensei knife. "Well, I guess you really can't turn back into an octopus, since these BB's no longer affect you." He grinned devilishly. "Let's see if knives have the same effect!"

Though an anti-sensei knife wasn't something that could intimidate a person without tentacles, a furious Karasuma most certainly was.

Korosensei took off screaming down the beach with Karasuma in hot pursuit, a vein pulsing in the P.E. teacher's temple and his eyes bulging with rage.

"Get back here you damn octopus!"


	4. An Investigation

Whimpering, Korosensei gingerly nursed the tender welts that dotted his fair skin, sniffling to himself as he did so.

"I'm never letting those kids play with anti-sensei BB guns again!" he resolved, still sore where Karasuma had shot him up with the supposedly harmless BB's.

He threw a piteous glance over the crackling fire and toward Karasuma, who sat opposite him, seeming lost in thought.

Korosensei couldn't really blame Karasuma for his strong reaction earlier, nor for the pensive attitude that he had adopted. Korosensei's own mind was whirling with possibilities, trying to work out just how something like this had happened. Even after nearly a day to think on it, the answer still eluded him.

As of yet, he couldn't even tell if the antimatter had been completely stripped from him or if it was still inside him somewhere, somehow nullified and lying dormant.

However, he was sure of one thing. The solution to the mystery was undoubtedly lurking in the hot spring he had visited. Something about the spring had caused him to change back, or more specifically, something in the  _water._

He'd have to make a point to go and investigate the scene.

For now, though, he had a rather uncooperative Karasuma to deal with.

Korosensei couldn't deny that this whole nightmare was the result of his own misdemeanors, and of course he felt endlessly guilty, and accordingly, he had profusely apologized to Karasuma.

Even so, regardless of how many times Korosensei had bowed his head and begged the man for forgiveness, Karasuma had kept his responses clipped and professional, and most of all, unaccepting. It seemed the whole "forgive and forget" philosophy was lost on the man.

After all, it wasn't as if Korosensei had  _wanted_  to get them both trapped on some island in the middle of nowhere. If anything, he wanted to be here even less than Karasuma did! He only had a year to teach Class 3-E; he didn't have a moment to spare! He certainly didn't have time to reenact the  _Lord of the Flies_  on some island!

Honestly, Karasuma acted as if he was always the only one inconvenienced.

Well, that wasn't to say that Karasuma's distaste toward him wasn't warranted (it usually was), but it would be nice if he could, at least for _once_ , be a little more understanding. It certainly wouldn't hurt for Karasuma to trust him a little more.

That was when Korosensei came to a decision: if Karasuma insisted upon acting all bristly and unforgiving, he would have to prove to him just how professional he could be. His octopus form may have had many flaws that led to some unfortunate occurrences, but now he was back to his skillful, assassin self. Any attempts to win over the man that may have went awry before would certainly succeed  _now_.

After all, he had already messed up big-time. What else could  _possibly_ go wrong?

* * *

Across from Korosensei, Karasuma sat with his arms folded, regarding the human form of his rather unconventional coworker from across the crackling fire situated between them. The octopus-turned-man had tailored his robes to fit his new form, and in addition, he had made for himself a temporary pair of shoes.

Seeing his target like this was so bizarre and absolutely uncanny. For the octopus to be, well, anything  _but_  an octopus…Karasuma still couldn't get over it. The two were obviously one in the same, as made obvious by their identical ability to muck up everything, but when he was sitting quietly at the fire, a serious and very human expression on his face, so different from his goofy octopus grin, it almost felt to Karasuma as if he was in the presence of a completely different person.

In light of the circumstances, continuing to call his target "octopus" felt wrong somehow, but almost anything was better than calling him by the ridiculous name his students had given him. So, octopus it was.

With the dawn sunlight glancing off their hunched forms, Karasuma's mind turned back to what the octopus had told him in the early hours of the morning. Following his fury-fueled chase the previous evening, after they had both found themselves back at the campfire, the octopus had lethargically relayed to him the more detailed version of events, explaining in-depth his puzzling transformation in the hot spring, as well as what led to it.

Needless to say, Karasuma was significantly less grateful for that bowl of ramen, now that he knew just what it had caused.

While Karasuma's anger hadn't quite subsided, it had mostly been replaced by the professional mindset that the dire situation called for. He furrowed his brow in thought. Somehow, his target had fallen into a hot spring, and  _somehow_ , that had stripped him of his octopus appearance. His conclusion had been the same as the octopus's, that the cause of the transformation was undeniably rooted in the water. Perhaps some strange chemical exclusive to these regions was infused in the steamy pool.

They would have to investigate the scene, of course, but if the root of the issue was truly a chemical that the octopus couldn't even detect when he had been submerged in it, then it was unlikely that they would discover it now.

And if they couldn't discover the cause of the transformation, then how on Earth were they supposed to reverse it?

Although, Karasuma couldn't help but wonder: would it really be better for his target to turn back into an octopus? In his octopus form, what with his unparalleled speed and ridiculous abilities, not even the most skilled assassins could lay so much as a finger on him. In his human form, however, he was significantly more vulnerable. This might be the best chance Karasuma would ever have to assassinate his target.

But then again, this was the octopus's true form as the world's best assassin, the God of Death. Perhaps it was wiser to assume that he was just as deadly this way.

"Octopus," Karasuma began.

Korosensei started to attention.

"Since it looks like we're going to be here awhile, we need to set up a more permanent camp."

Korosensei nodded eagerly in agreement. A bit too eagerly, Karasuma observed.

Suspicious.

"I also plan on revisiting the site of the crash, to gather more supplies," Karasuma elaborated. "What's more…that spring that you fell into. We need to investigate it as soon as possible, before any evidence fades."

"And then, hopefully, we'll find some clue of how I became like this, and hopefully, figure out what we can do to change me back," Korosensei finished. "Trust me, Karasuma-sensei, I'm already one step ahead of you."

Karasuma nodded warily, but was ultimately glad he had been spared the explaining.

With a flourish, Korosensei stood, his robes flapping in the ocean breeze. He stretched. "Now that the sun's risen, why don't we get started? I'm eager to investigate the spring, and I could use a new set of clothes from the plane."

Karasuma got to his feet and stretched as well. He considered the fire, whether to leave it burning as a signal to aircraft and ships, or to douse it and prevent the possibility of setting the entire island ablaze, since neither of them would be around to supervise it. This time he delegated to put it out, deciding that safe was better than sorry. While the same argument could be applied to the signal fire, they hadn't secured any materials that would create the thick, black smoke that would be more noticeable to rescuers.

Besides, he had a better, safer idea for until they could gather those smoke-inducing materials.

"Hey, octopus," Karasuma called as he prodded the fire to make sure it was dead. "I have a job for you." A job this easy, he figured, even his target could complete successfully.

His target, who had wandered a short way down the beach, turned back toward him, instantly attentive.

"I need you to write a giant 'SOS' in the sand over there," he called. "Make it big."

Korosensei gave him a thumbs-up and began dragging his foot through the white sand. Before long, the larger-than-life letters were gouged there, reaching out from the beach and towards the possibility of rescue.

When that was done and the fire was dead as could be, the two men entered the forest, hoping beyond hope that their trek would yield results.

* * *

Karasuma didn't need to be told that they were nearing the spring. The air itself, gradually becoming thicker and thicker with steam, was a dead giveaway.

After popping through a tightly-knitted copse of trees and brush, the pool came into sight, it's rocky sides slick and the water within them calm but hot, if the excessive steam rising from it was any indication.

"So, this is the spot?" Karasuma asked.

"Yes."

Karasuma surveyed the scene once more before coming to a decision. "I'll take this direction," he finally said, gesturing to the right.

"Guess I'll go left, then," Korosensei said, heading off in the opposite direction.

Karasuma quickly found that he had to watch his step. The rocks were incredibly slick, and intruding vines snaked as near as they dared to the edge of the pool. Though he hated to admit it, he was starting to see how his target had so easily fallen in.

The spring wasn't actually that big, he found, maybe the size of a large family pool. He knelt to further examine it. Though it was hard to tell with the moisture in the air obstructing his vision, the rock at the side of the pool didn't seem especially unique. It was just volcanic rock, which was a great deal less suspicious than sedimentary, which could include any number of strange and unheard of sediments that might affect the octopus' appearance. Still, he found a small piece that had broken free of a larger one and pocketed it to examine later in the sunlight.

As he did so, he noticed the small green plant growing nearby, right at the pool's edge. It struck him immediately as odd, that a plant could survive in these conditions. It looked like it was drawing its water directly from the spring. Coming closer, he fingered the herb's delicate leaves, marveling that such a fragile-looking plant could actually be so hardy.

_This must be the plant that the octopus was trying to get_ , he realized. He recognized the familiar scent from the ramen his target had prepared for him.

Suddenly, without warning, he felt danger. It was as if watchful eyes were upon him. A sinister bloodlust bore into his exposed back, and shaken, Karasuma whipped around to face the deep foliage behind him.

And just as suddenly, that feeling of being watched was abruptly cut off. It was as if the unnerving gaze had sensed Karasuma's own upon it, and had withdrawn silently into the jungle.

It was so quick, Karasuma wondered if he was going insane. Being stranded on a small island with only a living, breathing, walking disaster of an octopus could surely do that to a person.

Warily forcing his attention away from the jungle, he inspected the water. The heat made the water cloudy, but aside from that it looked clean. Dipping a finger in, he tasted it. As he thought, it was freshwater, meaning it truly was a spring.

However, he tasted something else in the water, something that wasn't salt but had an equally distinctive taste. He dipped his finger once again and, once again, tasted the water. Just to be sure.

Once again, the taste was there. It was unmistakable.

Taking his canteen, he dumped its contents before lowering it into the hot spring to fill it with the scalding water. He could always get another one off the plane. Once he was in the sunlight and the clear air again, he would need to look more closely at the water sample.

Tucking the warm canteen away, his eyes raked over the scene one last time before he went on his way to find his target.

* * *

As it turned out, Korosensei had had no more luck than Karasuma when it came to their investigation of the spring. Though their souls were crushed, both still clung to the possibility of the rock and water samples revealing something they couldn't see before.

While examining the samples, mapping out the island, and building a shelter were indeed priorities, the two first made their way toward the site of the decimated plane, or at least, the half that Karasuma had arrived in. It was at that end of the plane where all the luggage was. They were in dire need of supplies, supplies that would have to be retrieved from their luggage before anything else.

As before, Karasuma seldom needed to use his machete to hack down any obstructions, instead opting to navigate the jungle with parkour alone. His target, he found, was equally capable, for he easily kept stride with Karasuma throughout the course of their journey.

Karasuma supposed he really shouldn't have been surprised by that.

Their arrival at the crash site was heralded by an uncanny silence. Karasuma briefly wondered where the squawking of birds and the chattering of insects could be, but brushed the thought aside upon arriving at the ruined plane's entrance.

Karasuma ducked into the shade of the fuselage's interior, his eyes scanning every nook and cranny for lurking dangers. His target followed close on his heels, similarly alert, and the only sound was the crunching of their feet on the wreckage strewn about the floor—or rather, the ceiling, seeing as the plane was upside down and the floor now loomed above them.

Karasuma, after confirming that no animals had claimed the spot for themselves, proceeded to search around for his rather bland suitcase, as well as his similarly dull briefcase. It didn't take long for him to locate both pieces of luggage, their dark, shapely forms resting haphazardly against the walls of the plane.

On the other hand, Korosensei's bag, a backpack of sorts, had stuck out like a sore thumb, instantly visible the moment they entered the plane. It's practically shapeless form, full of misshapen bulges that defined the multitude of contents within, was unnaturally large to begin with. The conspicuous color, a cheerful orange, made it impossible to miss.  _Honestly,_ Karasuma mused. _I wouldn't be surprised if that overstuffed bag was what brought us down. It probably put us well over the weight limit._

Karasuma unzipped his suitcase and unbuckled the briefcase, inspecting the contents within. The papers and articles of clothing were tousled slightly, obviously jostled during the crash, but the contents were more or less in perfect order. Much to his relief, he found a spare canteen there. He had never been more pleased with himself for being prepared. Picking up the metal canteen, which had a crossbody strap on it, he lifted it over his head and positioned it so that the canteen rested near his hip. Considering how his other canteen housed the sample from the spring, he would be sure to fill this new one with drinking water as soon as possible.

Also locating a small, canvas knapsack, he filled it only with essentials: two alternate pairs of clothes, some paper and writing utensils, and his atlas. He wouldn't be able to carry the suitcase around, so it was best to just leave it. He could always come back.

A few feet away he spotted a black phone, its screen cracked and dark. Not just any cellphone, he quickly realized.  _His_  cellphone. He had had it on his person while the plane was in the air, but it must have fallen during the crash. Karasuma made his way over and turned it on, though the chances of there being a signal out wherever the hell they were was slim indeed. When he saw the zero bars of signal, he only sighed, refusing to allow himself disappointment. He had expected as much, after all.

Closing the phone, Karasuma glanced wearily over his shoulder toward his target, the source of a racket behind him, a growing clamor that he could no longer ignore. The insistent sound of objects clanging and clashing against one another as they were pushed aside or thrown to the ground was deafening in the confined space.

"Could you keep it down?" Karasuma demanded, just as a frying pan was dropped to the ground, the loud clang reverberating around the chamber.

His target didn't hear.

After having gleefully rushed to his gargantuan bag, his target had thrown open the main compartment and was rooting around inside for whatever he was looking for. Only, to do so, he had to climb atop the pack, since it was designed for a 9-foot octopus, not a lean man who couldn't possibly be an inch over 6 feet. Although, in Karasuma's professional opinion, the pack was much too large for even a 9-foot-tall being; it was more suited to a 20-foot being, more like.

"Could you keep it down?" Karasuma repeated, louder and more testily this time.

The clamor ceased, if only momentarily. "S-sorry," his target said sheepishly. "The clothes are at the bottom of the bag, and I have to empty everything else out to get there."

"Just be more quiet about it," Karasuma grumbled, walking toward the mountain of objects that had been emptied from the massive bag's depths. A compass sat on top, and Karasuma immediately pocketed it. Actually, Karasuma admitted, there were quite a few useful things in the pile, now that he looked. Strewn among the excess of textbooks and useless memorabilia sat cooking ware, towels, and a first-aid kit, just to name a few things.

Karasuma never thought he'd see the day that he would actually appreciate the octopus' packing paranoia. But then again, he never thought he'd be stranded on an island with his gear-grinding assassination target, just the two of them, with no help in sight. It seemed life was full of surprises.

"Make sure you bring some of this stuff," Karasuma called up to his target, who was still perched atop his super-sized travel bag.

Karasuma's only answer was a beach towel to the face.

Irritably marching outside with his bag in hand, Karasuma squinted against the intense sunlight. If his shadow was any indication, it was almost noon.

After finding a secluded spot to change clothes, now wearing a more comfortable set he might've used for training, he sat in the shadow cast by the plane wreckage and withdrew an atlas and some plain sheets of paper, along with a pen.

Now that he was outside the plane, he flipped his cell phone open again to re-check his signal, on the off chance that being in the plane had affected the signal reading. However, he didn't expect to find any good news. His expectations were not betrayed. Seeing as the device was as good as useless for now, he turned it off to conserve battery.

Turning his attention once more to the atlas and the papers, he withdrew the compass from his pocket and flipped to the "Pacific Islands" section of the atlas.

This atlas, however, was no standard atlas, like the kind one might find in a grade school, the kind that show only major islands or island chains. No, this one had been issued by a reputable cartographer, and Karasuma had always kept it around so that he would know exactly where he was in the world, coordinate for coordinate. In the "Pacific Islands" section, each island, no matter how small, was marked, so that the usually very blue-looking Pacific on the average map was now crowded with dots and names. To give room to list all these islands, the Pacific Ocean had been divided into sections, each section holding a system of islands that received its own page spread in the atlas. Even though it was the most detailed map money could buy, sailors and nautical authorities alike cautioned that not every island was listed, as the Pacific was indeed monstrously vast, and there were indeed islands  _everywhere_ , islands that were infinitesimally small and difficult to mark.

He scanned the area he believed they had been near when the plane had gone down, and he carefully scrutinized all the islands nearby, excluding ones that were bunched closely together with others and ones that seemed much too big. Unfortunately, that didn't narrow his choices much.

Exasperated, he snapped the atlas shut…only to see his target's face not a foot from his own. He nearly jumped.

"Aw, don't throw in the towel yet," the octopus encouraged. "I'm sure we could've figured out our position if we'd looked a bit longer."

Karasuma didn't appreciate the whole towel comment, seeing how the very commenter had thrown a towel (albeit unintentionally) in his face not long before. "What the hell are you  _wearing_?" Karasuma finally demanded, after his brain had processed his target's bizarre attire.

Korosensei drew back, hurt. "It seemed appropriate," he pouted. "I actually brought it along for you, in case you wanted to relax where we were going. I figured you would only bring boring clothes."

The octopus was wearing a bright, fuchsia pink Hawaiian shirt, the white flowers on it glaring in the tropical sunlight. In a show of a complete lack of style, he still wore his crescent moon tie, though it now hung loosely tied in the collar of his vibrant shirt. On his head was a floppy fishing hat that only barely shielded his face from sunlight, and the tan beach shorts he wore seemed to match the hat in color. Instead of sandals, as would seem fitting considering the rest of his attire, he sported a pair of yellow and white tennis shoes.

The sick irony of wearing the clothes of a vacationing tourist in Hawaii while they were fighting for their lives on this much less hospitable island was not appreciated. There were a million questions on Karasuma's mind, but all he could manage was, "But why the tie?" He tried not to scrunch his nose in disgust.

Korosensei's expression was bright. "What do you mean? This tie goes with  _every_ outfit!"

Karasuma resisted the urge to massage his temples. Whatever convoluted reasoning had led the octopus to  _that_  conclusion, he'd just leave him to it.

Karasuma looked at the plane's shadow, which was still short and dark against the brightly lit ground. It couldn't be long until it began to lengthen with the lowering afternoon sun. "We should go," Karasuma said, regathering his things and stashing them in his knapsack.

"Already?" Korosensei asked, but an icy glare from Karasuma put his protests to rest. "I'll…go gather my stuff," Korosensei agreed, dashing back to the plane to retrieve his bag.

Karsuma sighed and shook his head. He was just making to get to his feet when, without warning, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He recognized the feeling. Just as suddenly as before, the feeling of being watched had returned. From the forest, maybe ten feet to his side.

When Karasuma whipped his head around to catch the offender, just as before, the unnerving sensation immediately ceased. Without so much as a rustling of leaves, it just…

Vanished.

Karsuma refused to relax, and as he stood there gazing into the dark abyss of trees, a deep uneasiness gripped him. Maybe he  _wasn't_  going insane.

With an urgency to his step and his guard up, Karasuma made his way over to the wheels of the plane, which were lying a ways away from the body in a clump of brush. Taking his knife, he immediately set upon them, tearing free the rubber and dropping it into his sack.

When his target returned to his side, a large shadow fell over him. Assuming a cloud had merely slid over the sun, he didn't even look up from his task.

"What's…that…for?" Korosensei managed amid ragged panting.

"Burning rubber creates black smoke," Karasuma supplied. "This will make our signal fires more obvious."

"Good…idea!" the octopus grunted. "That's…Karasuma-sensei…for you!"

Karasuma looked up slowly from the now-sliced wheels, a strip of rubber still in his hand. The octopus was acting suspicious again. "What are you doing this tim—" Karasuma stopped mid-sentence. He was caught somewhere between disbelief and irritation. "What. The heck. Is that?"

"What's…what?" Korosensei managed, sweat running down his neck. As if he didn't know.

"You're not bringing that whole thing, are you?" Karasuma asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was hoping against hope that his target would say "no," but deep down he already knew what his answer would be.

"What? This…bag?"

" _Yes, the bag!_ " Karasuma practically hissed.

The octopus was wearing the oversized backpack from before, and in doing so, evidently defying the laws of nature. The pack towered over him, overflowing with supplies. For crying out loud, the thing was so huge, it blocked out the sun! His lean frame, dwarfed by the monstrous bag, looked on the verge of collapse under its pressure.

"I'm…bringing…some…of the…stuff…just…like…you…asked!" A triumphant smile graced his face.

It would be short-lived.

" _Some_ of the stuff?" Karasuma said incredulously. "Did you mean  _all_  of it?"

"No…I…just…packed…essentials," Korosensei assured him.

"You're going to  _carry_  that back to camp?"

" _Yes!_ " However, despite his optimistic words, with him panting like a whipped workhorse, his voice strained, it didn't sound the least bit convincing.

Karasuma screwed his eyes shut and massaged his temples for what felt like the hundredth time since their estrangement from civilization. Despite his efforts to quell the anger, it still boiled up inside him.

"Let me see it," Karasuma gritted out, gesturing to the ground with his index finger.

His apparently delirious colleague, with much effort, managed to shake his head. "This…is fine…Karasuma…sensei! I…can…carry it…just…fine!"

Karasuma wasn't going to deny that the octopus, now with human limitations, somehow shouldering such a weight and walking out here with it was a miracle in itself. Similarly, though, he couldn't deny that such a cumbersome burden would no doubt be the death of him. Of both of them, for that matter.

And he couldn't have that, now could he?

"Let me see the bag," Karasuma repeated, a vein bulging in his temple. He jabbed his index finger testily in the ground's direction.

"No!" his target stubbornly insisted, turning back in the direction of the camp and taking a few small, laboring steps toward the far-off destination.

"You'll get left behind," Karasuma warned.

"I won't…I…refuse…to be…a burden!"

"Too late," Karasuma muttered, springing up to a low-hanging branch. He was going to leave, really.

His target only continued his labored march.

"I'm leaving," Karasuma declared, already eying the higher branches and calculating his route.

His target lifted a shaky hand. "I'll…catch…up."

Could he really leave him? Karasuma looked down upon the foolish man below, who hobbled ungracefully towards the thick jungle. That foolhardy attitude of his was hard to stand before, but now, even in such trying circumstances, even though he was no longer an eternally-grinning octopus, to think that he still acted this way…

Karasuma honestly didn't know what he had expected.

His anger flaring, he left, swiftly leaping from tree to tree, vine to vine, never once pausing to look over his shoulder. Before long the canopy of leaves blocked out the light, and what little of it remained was stained an earthy green. Slowing, Karasuma finally stopped when he located the stream. Hopping down and rolling to the ground, he made his way to the stream's edge, withdrawing his new canteen and filling it with water.

As the water sloshed in the canteen, Karasuma was left to his own thoughts. Perhaps he should wait for his target to catch up to him?

Karasuma looked uneasily back the way he had come. Thick, winding roots and downed vines made it near impossible to traverse the forest at ground level. The only option was to go via the canopy, leaping from branch to high branch using parkour, a task that would doubtless be impossible for someone carrying a gargantuan bag such as the one the octopus was toting.

He was tempted to leave him behind anyway. Let him figure out himself that he would have to ditch some supplies to have any hope of getting back to camp.

But a gnawing concern continued to chip away at his resolve. He remembered the mysterious, menacing gazes from earlier, and how they had both peered from the jungle's depths…this jungle's depths.

Karasuma shook his head to clear it. This was ridiculous! His target was more than capable of handling himself. He was the God of Death for crying out loud.

Why did he care? It would be better for everyone if that stupid octopus got himself killed here. Mission complete.

But then Karasuma would have no hope of getting back to Japan.

_That's ludicrous!_ The logical part of him argued.  _We would survive much better on our own anyway. Government agents will locate us eventually. We don't need an octopus to fly us home. Besides, there's no guarantee that he will even turn back_ into _an octopus at all._

_All the same…maybe I'll just wait for him a bit,_ Karasuma decided, settling on a compromise to stay his conflicting emotions.

A bit, however, turned into a while, and Karasuma soon found himself seated beside the softly gurgling stream as the day wore on. Precious daylight was quickly passing him by.

_He shouldn't be taking this long,_ Karasuma thought, an unmistakable concern gripping him, even if he told himself it was merely irritation.

Getting slowly to his feet, Karasuma quickly hopped among the tree branches and made his way back to where he'd come from. The eerily silent forest made him hyperaware of every sound he made, every crunch of bark and rustle of leaves underfoot. He tried to limit his noise, but the quietness that pervaded the area was so complete, it made sounds as small as sighs sound like hurricanes.

Karasuma hadn't given it much thought before, but the silence was unnatural. Despite the absence of sound, his soldier's sense told him he was somehow not alone. Karasuma didn't like it.

The silence was so complete, in fact, that Karasuma heard the pitiful cries of his target from nearly a mile away. He quickened his pace, expecting to find the man captured by elusive natives, pinned to the floor by his pack, or even stuck between two trees, the girth of the pack trapping him there, unable to escape.

Instead, he found him in a most unexpected place: a ditch. A deep, square ditch.

"Help!" Korosensei called, his voice hoarse from yelling. He wasn't far from where Karasuma had left him, so he had probably been calling out for almost the entirety of Karasuma's absence. "Karasuma-sensei!"

Karasuma had been able to follow the tired screams straight to his colleague. Leaping down from the canopy and rolling skillfully to break the fall, he landed mere feet before his target.

It was quite the entrance, if he did say so himself.

"Karasuma-sensei!"

Karasuma regarded his coworker, who was presently beaming at him with frustrated tears in his eyes. He looked all right, bar the fact that he was tucked snugly into the ditch, backpack and all, with only his head and the upper few feet of his bag visible above it.

Whatever worry Karasuma had felt before was quickly forgotten upon seeing his target intact. It didn't take long for anger to replace it.

"I knew you would come back for me, Karasuma-sensei!" Korosensei sniffed, the tears flowing freely now.

Karasuma dismissed his sentiments with a huff, moving forward to inspect the pit his target had so perfectly fallen into. As his target continued to blabber, Karasuma knelt to examine the ditch's edge. Grasses and vines were strewn about, and a lattice of lines were impressed into the bare earth around it. To top things off, the ditch was hewn in such a way as to have perfectly modulated, straight borders. Definitely not the work of Mother Nature.

If Karasuma didn't know any better, he'd say it was a hunting trap.

"How did you get in here?" Karasuma demanded, standing back up and looking down on the scene.

Korosensei chuckled embarrassedly. "Funny story," he began idly, until Karasuma sent him a glare."O-ok, ok. W-well, I was walking, and then I just…wasn't walking. All of a sudden there was no ground and before I knew it I was here."

Karsuma frowned. "How did you miss a huge hole like this?"

"It was covered with grasses," he said, looked thoughtful for a second, and then added, "branches too. I heard them snap when I fell."

Karasuma wrinkled his nose. "And you're supposed to be the God of Death?"

Korosensei pouted, indignant. "I have a weakness for pitfalls! Besides," he muttered, "I was kind of preoccupied with the bag, you know."

Karasuma released a long-suffering sigh. This was going to be a lot of work. "I think I'm going to have to dig you out. You're stuck in there pretty tight." His frown deepened, the deep lines engraved in his forehead coming out. "I don't have a shovel, though. The pan we used before is back at the front half of the plane."

Korosensei's face lit up. "Oh, I have a shovel!"

"What?"

"It's in my bag!"

Karasuma slapped a hand to his forehead. Of course it was.

He walked around his target, to the bag that was, for the most part, largely above ground, towering over his target's head. As Karasuma stood facing it, he found that the top of the bag was nearly head-level with him. Reaching out to unzip it, he quickly began to empty its contents, throwing them haphazardly behind him, to which his target, alarmed, would protest that he should be gentler with the junk.

Ignoring those pleas, he continued to root through the bag until he was practically diving inside it. It was near the middle that he finally found the shovel.

He wasted no time in getting to work with it, chipping away at the pit's earthen borders until there was a good foot on all sides of the octopus down to his forearms.

Throwing the shovel down, Karasuma wiped the sweat from his brow and took a swig from his canteen, surveying his work. His target looked longingly up at his canteen with big, round puppy eyes.

"I'll get you out of there soon enough," Karasuma dismissed him, not at all affected by the needy gaze upon him. Dogs were one thing, but octopus men were quite another.

Finally capping his drink, Karasuma drew his forearm across his mouth and pushed up his already rolled sleeves. "Relax your arms," he commanded.

Confusion clouded his target's eyes. "Relax them?" he questioned.

Before Karasuma could elaborate on his instructions, he had already made his way behind the octopus, fitted his hands into his armpits, and with an almighty heave, pulled him free from the pitfall trap.

The octopus yelped at the suddenness of it all, and looked back incredulously and very shaken at his savior, once he had been set on solid ground.

"You could have warned me first!"

Karasuma ignored him.

Korosensei quickly set to regathering his possessions and stuffing them back in his supersized bag, but Karasuma quickly put a stop to his actions.

"You are  _not_ bringing all this back with us," Karasuma ordered. He found a small knapsack that he had excavated from the depths of the larger bag, and dropped it at his feet. "Use this."

Korosensei attempted to protest but was shushed by his coworker.

"Essentials. Only."

"But—"

"Do I have to do it for you?"

Korosensei bit his lip with uncertainty.

Aggravated, Karasuma shot him a severe glare that was not to be disobeyed, and his target shook his head meekly and quickly resumed his task, this time packing more conservatively.

Meanwhile, while the octopus was busy, Karasuma inspected the pitfall. The grasses and branches, now broken, that the octopus had spoken of were sitting at the bottom.

So there  _were_ people here. Or at least, there had been. The grasses and twigs looked aged, but not ancient. Karasuma suspected that the trap had been lying there for a good year or two. Karasuma looked around him for any other signs of humanity, but saw only pure, unadulterated nature.

Karasuma remembered the eyes he had felt on him earlier. Perhaps those had belonged to people still living on this island. If so, there couldn't be many of them. Still, it would be wise of he and his target to watch themselves.

His target soon joined him in squatting at the pit's edge. "Looks old," he said. "The people who made it might not be here anymore. This island is small, after all."

"But they might still be here," Karasuma said, eyes never leaving the pit's base.

There was a pause.

"They might."

Their thinking was interrupted by the growling of Korosensei's stomach, and he smiled sheepishly. "Guess it's time for lunch."

"A pretty late lunch," Karasuma remarked.

His target shrugged.

Another minute passed uneventfully. Then, with a sigh, Karasuma stood. "Some food would be good. We'll gather some on our way back to camp. If we're efficient, we should have enough time to create a shelter before sunset."

Korosensei nodded and joined him in standing, both turning toward the direction of their camp.

"Hey, Karasuma-sensei," his target began, an impish grin on his face. "Even though you said all those mean things about my pack, you ended up needing the shovel I brought." He sniggered. "Aren't you going to thank me?"

Karasuma turned on him. "The only reason we  _needed_  the shovel in the first place was because that ridiculous pack of yours got you stuck in a pitfall!"

"That's not the point," his target attempted to explain. "It's about always being prepared."

"We just wasted hours on your ' _being_   _prepared'_ ," Karasuma rebutted, leaping up into the trees, his target following close behind.

"In your eyes, maybe."

Karasuma felt his anger spiking again. "Care to repeat that, octopus?" A vein bulged. Why was his target so intent upon always trying his patience?

All the way back to camp they bickered, a very real knife sometimes thrusting itself in Korosensei's direction, glinting in the flashes of sunlight that poked through the canopy. Laughing egotistically, the former assassin avoided it every time, and Karasuma just knew that if his target still possessed his octopus form, he would most certainly be sporting his smug set of green stripes.


	5. Exploration

Cookware clinked and water sloshed as the remains of a very late lunch were tidied up. While Karasuma used canteen water to rinse the bowls and utensils (items they had procured from the plane), his assassination target sat quietly by his side, taking each dish and drying it with a dish towel (also from the plane).

Karasuma cast a sidelong glance to the dish-dryer beside him, noting the despondent way that he sat hunched over, his eyes trained a bit too intensely on each dish he picked up. It was difficult to say, but Karasuma could almost swear that there was a slight pout to his lips. It seemed the octopus was still sulking about what had happened earlier.

Karasuma hadn't particularly meant to be mean, but after arriving back to their campsite, when it came time to prepare their meal, he had expressly forbidden his target from so much as touching the cooking pot. The octopus had insisted that he prepare the meal himself, and an elaborate one at that, as a means of apologizing for earlier. Now that things had settled down, it seemed the former assassin was feeling quite embarrassed about letting himself fall victim to such a simple trap and having to have Karasuma rescue him.

Karasuma, however, wouldn't have it. His colleague had drawn back, hurt by Karasuma's insistent tone, but, Karasuma reasoned, they really didn't have time for such niceties. The onset of evening wasn't too terribly far off, and it was essential that they built some sort of shelter for themselves. Preferably at a new location, Karasuma had thought, thinking back to the peculiar gazes of earlier, the memory alone making his hair stand on end.

His target, however, had accused him of not trusting him. Karasuma had half a mind to dismiss his accusations, but after the events of the day so far, Karasuma couldn't say that he really did trust him.

Karasuma had taken it upon himself to cook the meal, a simple soup with a side of bread, all items that had been retrieved from the plane. Throughout the meal, an almost palpable silence hung between them. There was such a sense of gloom radiating from the octopus, Karasuma could've sworn that he could just reach out and touch it.

After a meal that Karasuma could honestly call the most awkward one he'd ever partaken in, he finally decided to give his target the menial task of drying dishes, if only to put a stop to his sulking.

After the last dish had been dried and packed neatly away in Karasuma's bag, Karasuma stood, surveying the slanting shadows of the dark forest. It was probably around three-thirty or four o'clock in the afternoon. Just enough time.

"Octopus," he began, addressing him with his characteristically authoritative voice. "We're leaving."

"Eh?!" His target whipped his head towards him at that, apparently forgetting that he was supposed to be pouting and ignoring Karasuma.

"We're finding a new campsite," Karasuma clarified. "And I have just the place in mind."

The former assassin's shoulders slumped. Karasuma couldn't help but wonder what it was the octopus had been expecting him to say. Had he expected him to have come up with a daring plan to escape from the island?

Karasuma turned his back on his colleague, walking closer to the fire to ensure it was dead. "Gather your things. We're leaving in ten minutes."

By the time ten minutes rolled around, the two men were ready to embark, their belongings stashed in the packs on their backs. Sticking to the beach, the pair followed the sandy curve of the coast until the beach seemed to widen, the sand-filled gap between the trees and the water much greater than it was at their previous campsite. It was here that Karasuma stopped.

"This should be sufficient for now. The stream isn't that far off from here, either. We may have to move again, but this will do in the meantime."

His target didn't say anything, only stared off into the forest. As Karasuma set his bag down, the former assassin finally did the same.

"One of us will stay with our supplies and the other will go foraging for building materials for the shelter. When one of us returns, the other will go out to fetch more materials. The one left with the bags will watch them and begin constructing the shelter." Karasuma decided.

His target opened his mouth to say something, probably to volunteer to collect materials first, but Karasuma was too fast. "I'll go first to collect materials," he asserted.

The octopus slowly closed his mouth, a look of discouragement flickering across his features for only a second before it was replaced with his usual cheerfulness. "Alright then. I'll guard the campsite."

If Karasuma had to be honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he trusted his target to guard anything, but something was better than nothing, he supposed. There certainly didn't seem to be any predators about. So long as he remained on the beach, he shouldn't encounter any trouble. Consoling himself with that thought, Karasuma ventured off toward the forest.

The light dimmed significantly once he found himself under the jungle's canopy. The sound of the stream gurgling nearby was soothing, but aside from that, the odd silence of the forest put Karasuma a little on edge.

Hacking his way through the foliage with his trusty machete, he observed each plant closely until he was able to locate the perfect materials. Thick and sturdy branches that would create a strong structure for the shelter, large green leaves that would surely provide water resistance, and of course, nearly unbreakable vines to tie the whole thing together.

Karasuma collected all of these items and tied them together in a bunch using the thick vines that were so abundant, and hoisting it up, he made his way back to their new campsite. While he had procured most of the materials they would be needing in one trip, they could still probably do with some moss to add extra insulation on the roof. Some palm fronds for the floor wouldn't be a bad idea, either.

Karasuma returned, thankfully, to find that nothing had gone wrong for once. His target had even taken the liberty of drawing another large SOS in the sand, and was beginning to construct a fire from what little materials they had.

After sending the octopus off in search of moss, palm fronds, and anything necessary for a fire, Karasuma began the task of constructing the shelter. Tying together all the sturdy branches to create a tepee-style hut seemed much easier in theory, he realized, but after a while he eventually managed. He was just finishing up tying a lattice of smaller branches to the tepee's frame, so that they could layer moss and anything else on it, when his target returned, his arms laden with bundles of soft, green moss, leaves, and branches.

"Karasuma-sensei!" Korosensei called, beaming as he was finally able to present his findings to his colleague.

Karasuma nodded approvingly at the supplies, once again surprised by the fact that everything was going smoothly. It seemed almost unnatural.

Working rather efficiently, the pair layered on the moss, branches, and leaves until the tepee looked to be a fine shelter indeed. Korosensei crawled into the rather spacious hut and spread palm fronds on the floor before laying out a blanket on top of it. While it wasn't exactly the picture of comfort, it was about as comfortable as one could get, stranded on an island like this.

Karasuma, meanwhile, built up the fire, and just as evening was falling, too. It seemed that it was going to be another clear night, the stars gradually appearing against the quickly darkening sky. The soft sound of feet padding across the sand alerted Karasuma to his target's presence, and as he took a seat on the opposite side of the fire, the two stared wistfully into the crackling flames. Still full from their earlier meal, they forewent dinner, choosing instead to sit in reflection. Aside from a few attempts from Korosensei to ruffle his colleague's feathers or create small talk, a silence eventually settled upon them, and as late night approached, the fire was reduced to embers and eventually snuffed out, and the two teachers made their way to bed.

It was a bit cramped in the shelter, but lying side-by-side, facing away from one another, each man more or less had just enough room. Even so, it was a long while before either fell asleep. Karasuma's mind was wide awake despite the late hour, and it never ceased to rest. While it was true that they were doing rather well given the circumstances, having built a shelter and by no means having a shortage of supplies, there was still much of the island that they hadn't seen yet.

There was something about this island that was really starting to bother him. Call it a soldier's sense or whatever you will, but Karasuma wasn't about to ignore it.

The next day, it was time that he really discovered what was up with this island.

With his mind made up, Karasuma soon felt sleep tugging at the edges of his consciousness. He was at the verge of giving in to it, letting his heavy eyelids slide closed and envelope him in darkness, when suddenly—

"Zzzz…"

Karasuma's eyes shot open. Was that…a snore?

"ZzZZzzZZ…"

Yes. Yes it was.

Well, it seemed that the octopus had fallen asleep, a fact underscored by some of the most obnoxious snoring Karasuma had ever heard. Having the sound right at his ear only heightened his irritation.

Seriously, was his target an old man?

Karasuma wished he had a pillow to wrap around his head to smother the sound, but unfortunately, he was rather lacking in the pillow department. With a hiss of annoyance, he slapped his hands to his ears. It provided little to no solace, though. Not only was the position uncomfortable, but it did little to mute the noise.

Just when Karasuma felt sure that it couldn't get any worse, he felt a leg drape itself over his own and an arm fling across his middle. He nearly jumped when he felt the loud snores at the back of his neck.

Karasuma fidgeted, trying to slip away from the octopus or pry his limbs off, but the former assassin had a formidable grip and held fast to his fellow teacher.

"Get off me!" Karasuma roared, trying his best to shake off the unwanted company.

The snoring man in question only tightened his hold, embracing his straight-laced colleague in a tight bear-hug from behind.

After 5 minutes of fruitless struggling, Karasuma finally gave up, resigning himself to his fate. With his assassination target more or less spooning him, breathing down his neck and snoring in his ear, it was now that Karasuma realized his crucial mistake.

He should have made two shelters.

* * *

"Ah, I sure slept good last night! I haven't slept that well in ages!" Korosensei exclaimed, stretching as he stood on the sunny morning beach.

"I'm sure you did," Karasuma stated dryly, his own eyes bloodshot as he prodded the fire with a twig, attempting to rekindle the stubborn fire. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before thanks to a certain sleeping beauty who had attached himself to him.

The former assassin flopped himself down on the opposite side of the fire, oblivious to Karasuma's plight and evidently reenergized from the night's rest. "So, what's the plan for today?"

Karasuma didn't even look up from his task. "First and foremost, you're building another shelter."

"Eh~? Why? I thought that the one was just fine."

Karasuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just…do it as soon as possible." In all honesty, Karasuma was just too tired to fight.

Korosensei looked disheartened. "Oh. O-ok."

Karasuma sighed. "Anyways, today we have something else on our plates."

Korosensei was instantly attentive. "What is it?"

"It's about time we found out what's really on this island. We're going to map it out."

"Really?!" he asked excitedly, whipping out a pair of sunglasses and slinging his canteen over his shoulder. "When do we start?"

"After breakfast," Karasuma assured him, finally getting the fire to cooperate. After withdrawing from his bag a skillet and some just-add-water pancake mix, Karasuma proceeded to make breakfast. They would be doing a lot of walking that day, after all, so it was important that they both had their energy. Plus, there was no telling what they'd run into.

After the pancakes had been eaten and the dishes cleaned, the two men were ready to embark. Standing before the edge of the forest, Karasuma held in his hand a notebook with gridded pages and a pencil for drawing the map. Strapped to each leg was a knife, there in case he should need to draw them.

"It looks like we're ready," Korosensei remarked, only barely keeping the quiver of excitement from his voice.

Karasuma turned to him, already feeling a headache coming on. "You  _do_  know that we're not doing this for fun, right? This is serious."

"Yes, of course, serious," his target agreed, nodding his head and looking rather serious indeed. "But you have to admit…isn't it kind of adventurous? Exploring someplace that maybe no one else has before?"

"No," Karasuma said immediately. "In my experience, if no one has ever explored the place before, there's usually a reason for it."

"That's…a bit extreme, don't you think, Karasuma-sens—"

"All the same," Karasuma said, unbuckling one of the straps on his legs, "I want you to take this." He held out a knife to his target, its blade down and tucked into a sheath, leg straps dangling from it.

For a moment, it appeared that his colleague couldn't process the action. He quickly recovered, however. "K-Karasuma-sensei, I couldn't possibly…"

"Take it," Karasuma insisted. He looked his target in the eye, understanding his reluctance. The last time he'd held a real, bona fide knife, it was probably to kill someone with. "It's for self-defense," he added, a bit softer. "How will those kids feel if their target bites it on some island in the middle of nowhere?"

Korosensei bit his lip, staring at the weapon hesitantly. Without a doubt, Karasuma thought, images of the 28 students they had left behind were running through his mind. He knew they were in his own.

After a minute, and with an uncertain gulp, the former assassin finally took hold of the knife. Long after Karasuma had relinquished his own grip on it, his target continued to stare at the weapon in his hand, seemingly in a trance.

Karasuma coughed awkwardly, stepping forward. "I'm going. We don't have all day." With that, he started off into the forest, jumping to the side of a tree trunk and using it to catapult himself to a higher branch.

"W-wait, Karasuma-sensei!" his target called, frantically trying to secure the knife to his left thigh.

Karasuma pretended not to hear, but he did slow his pace to allow him to catch up.

* * *

It took nearly all day to traipse through the jungle and mark any important landmarks. It probably would have taken much longer, though, if they hadn't had parkour skills at their disposal. It helped that the map Karasuma was using was already partially completed; he had already drawn the basic shape of the island and the outline of the forest, thanks to the coastline walk they had taken on their first day there. On it already were the plane crash sites, their first and second campsites, sections of the freshwater stream, and of course, the peculiar spring which had caused the octopus's bizarre transformation.

Over the course of the day, the majority of what Karasuma and his target encountered was exclusively limited to trees and vines. They were able to follow the stream and plot its entire course, discovering its source and that at one point it even hit a multitude of small rapids. Towards one end of the island, the higher part, it was rockier, and this was where the springs were to be found. To the other end of the island, the ground was lower and sandier, with less rocks. There was even a particularly large tree towards the center of the island.

Stopping to rest near a copse of trees and vines, Karasuma reviewed the map, nodding to himself as his eyes roved over the image. As much as was possible, they had covered every square inch of the island.

But still, it was strange. On their trek, they had encountered many hunting traps (which were then carefully marked on the map, especially the pitfall ones), but not a single other sign of civilization was available. No villages, no houses, no tents or huts: nothing. It was also strangely quiet on the island, no birds cawing, no crickets chirping, only complete silence. Stranger still, he hadn't felt the unnerving presence that he had the day before. Despite their search, Karasuma couldn't help but feel even farther from the mystery of the island.

"Whew!" Korosensei exclaimed, taking a large swig from his canteen. As he screwed the cap back on it, he put his hands on his hips. "I'd nearly forgotten what it feels like to walk this much. Sure is tiring," he remarked. "Especially in this kind of environment."

Karasuma barely spared him a glance.

Sitting down on a toppled tree trunk, the former assassin sighed. He gave the knife at his thigh a long look. "In the end we had nothing to worry about, huh…" he said, just above a whisper.

He'd probably said the words more to himself than anyone else, but Karasuma still caught it.

"WAH!" his target suddenly cried out, followed by a dull  _thunk_.

Karasuma dropped the map, drawing his knife at record speed and dashing towards his target. But as he looked to where the man had been only seconds before, he found that he was there no longer.

"Octopus!"

"Ow ow ow ow~" came a whine from the direction of the tree trunk. From a curtain of flowering vines located directly behind the tree trunk, a head of raven-black hair poked out. "Ugh, I thought that wall was solid," his target complained, rubbing his head apologetically.

Karasuma could only stare at him.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," his target assured him, gesturing to him that he could put the knife away. "I just thought that was a wall, and I leaned back against it," he explained, looking a little embarrassed. "Definitely not my best judgement." Suddenly, his head disappeared as he dipped back behind the curtain.

Karasuma's stomach dropped. "Wait a minute, we don't know what could be over there ye—"

"Wow," his target marveled, cutting off Karasuma's concerns. "Who would've thought that all this was back here!"

Karasuma dragged an exasperated hand down his face and began to make his way to where the octopus was. Seriously, his target was much too happy-go lucky. He wondered how he'd survived up until this point.

Soon, though, the octopus's gleeful exclamations came to a halt. "Karasuma-sensei?" his target called, his cheerful tone faltering. "I think you'd better come over here."

Karasuma didn't need to be told twice. Fearing the worst, he kept his knife drawn and at the ready before parting the vines and stepping through them, finding himself in a corridor of trees.

Like his target, his first reaction to what he saw was awe.

Densely packed trees and vines were all it took to hide a cleared, dirt avenue, bordered on both sides by foliage so thick it was impossible to see through. Vines and other ground-level plants snaked their way across the dirt road, giving off the impression that it hadn't been used for quite some time. At the end of the avenue was a murky swamp with towering trees growing straight from it, their tall roots extending deep into the water.

But it was what was beyond all that that nearly made the knife slip from Karasuma's hand.

There was a shack. A lone, wooden shack on stilts was situated on the swamp, a wooden boardwalk leading to its front door.

"That's…"

"Whoever it was, I don't think they're here anymore," his target supplied, his sharp eyes analyzing the scene. "This path is overgrown, and that cabin looks to be in quite a state of disrepair."

Karasuma had to agree, but he still couldn't bring himself to put his knife away. While the hidden place they had found seemed beautiful, there was some underlying feeling there that made him want to shudder. He didn't like it.

And that was precisely why he had to know more.

"K-Karasuma-sensei?!"

Karasuma had started walking toward the dilapidated structure. He didn't bother to stop, nor did he bother to turn around. "You're coming, right? It'd probably be a good idea to have your knife out."

Karasuma couldn't see his target, but he imagined him struggling with whether to follow or not, whether to draw the knife or not. Regardless, a few seconds later, he had caught up and fallen into step beside him. The former assassin still hadn't bothered to draw his knife, but Karasuma chose not to comment.

The boardwalk to the front door of the shack groaned and creaked under the pair's weight, but the wood held firm. Despite all the dirt and mold to be found on it, the wood didn't actually appear to be that old. It had only been there for a couple of years, perhaps.

Karasuma was the first to reach the door of the cabin. He tried the rusted door handle, turning it slowly, and to his surprise, he found it unlocked. He turned to his target who gave a single, determined nod, and slowly, Karasuma turned the handle all the way, pushing the door open.

The door creaked open on rusty hinges, revealing a gaping maw of darkness. "I don't suppose you have a flashlight on you?" Karasuma said, just under his breath.

"Sorry," his target whispered back, offering a grimace. "I tried to pack light."

_Of course_. Karasuma was certainly glad that his target was no longer lugging around that gargantuan pack of his, stuffed to the brim with every curio imaginable—it certainly made mobility much easier—but it certainly was unfortunate in circumstances like this.

Karasuma had, in fact, brought a small lighter with him. He didn't smoke, but he reckoned the pilot of their flight had, for he'd found it in the wreckage of the cockpit. Because it was so small, he'd been keeping it in his pocket.

It wasn't much, but hopefully it would do. Withdrawing the small contraption from his pocket, it only took him a few tries before a tiny flame finally sprang up from the corner. Holding it out and aloft, Karasuma nodded to the man behind him and when he received one in return, he ventured forth.

At first, all that came into sight was darkness. The small sphere of light that surrounded the tiny flame did little to shed any illumination. However, it wasn't long before Karasuma's foot bumped into something metal that rattled as it screeched across the wooden floorboards. Karasuma lowered the lighter to get a good look at it.

It was a cage. An empty cage, but a cage all the same.

Karasuma held his lighter out farther, revealing more cages like the first, all of assorted shapes and sizes, stacked one upon the other.

"I think I found a lamp," he heard his target say from across the room, quite unexpectedly. It shocked him a bit; he didn't notice that the other man had left his side.

There was the sound of someone fumbling in the darkness, and then something metal clattering to the floor. Finally, light flooded the room.

" _Yikes!_ " his target cursed, falling backwards as he came face to face with a large, grinning shark head that was mounted on the wall. Directly in front of it was the oil lamp, now shining brightly and casting an eerie glow upon the shark's razor-sharp teeth.

Karasuma's eyes grew wide as he was finally able to take in the contents of the room, his mind finally putting the pieces of the puzzle together. He wondered how he hadn't considered the possibility before.

The reason why the island was so eerily quiet, why he hadn't seen a single animal since arriving on the island, it all made sense now. Just one look around the room provided him with all he needed to know.

"Poachers."


	6. Hidden Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have emerged from the void! Sorry this chapter took literal months to write; aside from being insufferably busy irl, my perfectionism felt the need to write and rewrite this chapter hundreds of times. In all honesty, I'm still not entirely pleased with how it turned out, but I figured it was good enough to post. Drop me a review and tell me what you think?

Raindrops pattered drearily against the roof and walls. Outside, waves crashed onto a shore flanked by dark, low-hanging clouds. Inside the small shelter on the beach, however, the two stranded teachers of Class 3-E remained quite dry, huddled in the tepee among their few possessions.

The pair sat across from each other in silence, a single oil lamp glowing softly between them. Aside from the shower outside, the insistent sound of dripping could be heard within the tent, drops of water snaking their way through leaks in the roof and falling with a  _plop_ into the bowls and mugs that had been set around to collect them.

Karasuma sat staring at the mug in his lap, watching the water in it ripple as each raindrop hit its surface, falling from a leak right above his head.

His mind drifted towards the discovery of yesterday. The presence of poachers on the island was certainly a surprise, but, he supposed, he should have guessed it sooner. From the presence of hunting traps and the lack of animals they'd encountered, he'd initially surmised that the area was simply a hunting colony. However, upon inspection of the shack and some documents they'd discovered there, it became obvious that the business being conducted there had generally tended toward the illegal.

The shack had been abandoned in a state of disarray, as if its frequenters had left in a hurry. Drawers had been left open with their papers flowing out, as if only the most incriminating documents had been grabbed before a rushed departure. Many cages sat in toppled heaps, and while no money or valuables seemed to have been left behind, they had discovered a surprising cache of weapons in a small closet off the main room.

Every last thing in the dilapidated old shack was blanketed with a thick, gray layer of dust, and the stench of rotting wood permeated the air. It was clear that whoever the poachers were, they were long gone from the island.

Karasuma couldn't help but wonder what had made the poachers evacuate the island so quickly. They seemed to have been the only ones who had previously lived on the island. Remembering the strange bloodlust-fueled gazes he had felt trained upon him a few days prior, Karasuma wondered if the two incidents might not be related. He had a bad feeling about this, and yet…

Maybe he was overthinking things.

Solitude such as he was experiencing could really get to a person's head. Maybe he was just being paranoid, seeing as how he was stuck on such an abnormally quiet island with only his abnormally loud target for company. That much could drive anyone crazy.

Besides, his target had formerly been the  _God of Death_. As much as Karasuma saw him as a klutz, he liked to think he would have felt any bloodlust if it had been present, and with that motor-mouth of his, he would have surely pointed it out.

Sheesh. Maybe he really  _was_  losing it. The sooner they got off this island, the better.

* * *

 Within the hour, the rain cleared up, the clouds parting to reveal the late afternoon sky, crisp and clear and blue overhead. Emerging from their cramped tent, the teachers of Class E stretched, finally given enough room to do so.

As if they had been doing it all their lives, without needing to exchange a single word, the two men set to restoring the campsite.

Korosensei set to redrawing the large SOS in the sand which had been washed away by the rain. Karasuma, meanwhile, set to rekindling the fire with dry tinder, duly noting the dwindling supply of firewood. They'd need more soon; it was imperative that they keep the fire going as often as possible in the event that a plane or boat should venture near. That way, the rubber plane tires could be quickly added to the flames to send up an unmistakable distress signal.

Once his task was finished, Korosensei flopped down in the sand, closing his eyes and basking in the warm sunlight, a welcome change from the dreary rain.

Karasuma himself sat not far from him, staring off toward the ocean, trying to discern where the sea met the sky. The warm and still slightly damp sand felt grainy under his palms, the sun dry and warm. A lazy sea breeze ruffled his hair and clothes. Karasuma might have thought about closing his eyes and enjoying his environs if he had been any less, well, Karasuma.

Presently, with absolutely nothing demanding his attention, his hands were itching to do something. Just when he was about to get up and make something for himself to do, he heard a shuffling noise to his side. Turning his head, he found his target amusing himself with the sand, in the process of erecting a grand sandcastle.

Feeling Karasuma's gaze upon him, the former assassin paused his activities and grinned. "Wanna help?"

Karasuma glared reproachfully at his target's childish antics.

"It has a moat…?" Korosensei offered, trying to sell his current engagement.

"I'll have to pass," Karasuma said flatly, and just as his target opened his mouth to object: "I was actually just about to take a walk."

Korosensei closed his mouth and nodded sullenly, turning back toward his sandcastle. "Oh, I see."

"I'll be back by dark," Karasuma promised, offering nothing further as he strolled slowly down the beach without so much as a goodbye.

* * *

 Korosensei watched his figure shrink as he walked further and further away, shaking his head as he patted more sand to his castle's structure. Karasuma never just "took walks." He was obviously going off to find some task for himself, seeing as he was always so compelled to keep himself busy.

The man just couldn't keep still, could he?

Korosensei sighed. That straight-lace needed to learn how to  _relax_. One day, he'd probably regret that he didn't.

* * *

 Karasuma never just "took walks." Such a frivolous activity was a waste of time, and as a workaholic, Karasuma felt uneasy when any length of time was occupied by doing something so purposeless.

This time was no different. Each stride was purposeful as the terrain under Karasuma's feet faded from white sand to green jungle. In hardly any time at all, Karasuma found himself standing at the edge of the clearing, staring at the dark, looming shape of the wrecked plane.

In the waning afternoon light, the crash site appeared darker than before, the woods denser. Now that he was keenly aware of the island's bizarre silence, it was all the more deafening. In such an oppressive stillness, every breath of air, every rustle of cloth seemed painfully loud. Karasuma cringed as he drew his gun as quietly as possible, holding it at the ready.

His fears were probably for naught, but that was precisely why he had come. This place was where he had previously sensed the hostile presence that still nagged at him. Despite how stupid his brain told him it was, his soldier's sense wouldn't seem to let go of it. Until he could prove to himself that he was being paranoid, he knew he would never be able to relax. For that reason, never a man of inaction, he had come to assuage his fears.

Cautiously, yet without hesitation, Karasuma advanced into the clearing, eyes scanning the toppled trees and broken branches. Nothing moved, and his own shallow breathing was the only sound for yards. After convincing himself that the clearing itself was safe, Karasuma crept along the clearing's border, peering into the dim forest.

At last, Karasuma reached the spot from which the bloodlust had previously emanated. With especial care, he scrutinized the area with a discerning eye, searching for a sign, any sign, that something had lurked there recently. A broken branch, a tuft of hair caught on a bramble, anything.

However, Karasuma's diligent search yielded no results. The thick brush appeared utterly undisturbed, every leaf in place. While Karasuma knew that the recent rain may have washed away evidence, he was doubtful that it could have wiped a scene so clean with the jungle canopy as thick as it was.

Sighing, Karasuma let his shoulders sink. What had he been expecting? The island was deserted, that much had been ascertained the day before. It had been silly to worry.

Karasuma looked to the decimated plane not far from his current spot.  _Well, since I've come all the way here, I might as well grab a few things,_  he reasoned.

He struck out toward what remained of the plane, and when he arrived at the gaping maw of the fuselage, he performed a half-hearted search for lurking danger before holstering his weapon. Arriving at the kitchen, Karasuma filled a bag with more food, noting its dwindling supply. Soon they would have to stake their sustenance upon any herbs they could gather and fish they could catch-assuming they could find any, that is.

Just when Karasuma was about satisfied with his bounty, his eyes caught upon a large, burgundy bottle. Grabbing it by the neck and bringing it into the light, Karasuma peered at the green label. It was written in French, in a graceful, elaborate cursive script. Karasuma didn't know enough French to decipher what it said, but he didn't need to; it was already obvious.

It was wine, and some damn fine wine at that. Karasuma wondered how expensive it was.

Under normal circumstances, Karasuma wouldn't have even considered the beverage. After all, it was his policy to remain vigilant at all times. Even when he appeared to be in repose, he never truly dropped his guard.

This time, however, he refused to put the bottle down; after all, his present situation offered some extenuating circumstances. His experiences as of late had been especially harrowing. In the past few days alone, he felt more tested than he ever had been before, and with only the octopus for company, constantly nagging on his nerves, Karasuma felt on the verge of insanity. Understandably, there was an irresistible desire to get just a little buzzed, to escape his stressors for just  _a short_ while.

Without further deliberation, Karasuma slid the hefty bottle into his bag. With a final glance behind him, he shouldered the bag and made his way out of the plane, his boots crunching on debris.

Outside, evening was setting in, the sun dipping lower in the sky and throwing strange shadows around the crash site. When Karasuma reached the edge of the forest, he cast a final, long glance at the wreck, the clearing, and the foreboding foliage surrounding it. Then, shaking his head, he turned around and plunged into the forest, never once looking back.

* * *

 When Karasuma returned to camp, he found his target poking and prodding the fire with a stick, his gaze fixated so unwaveringly upon his task, he seemed to be in a trance. Occasionally a log would slip, and embers would leap into the air, the bright specks reflected in the assassin's murky eyes.

Korosensei only looked up when Karasuma drew near, and only then did his eyes assume their usual liveliness.

"I see you've gathered more firewood," Karasuma remarked, gesturing to the fresh stack of logs and twigs nearby.

Korosensei nodded, but his gaze latched upon the bag at Karasuma's shoulder.

"What's that?"

Karasuma took his seat on the opposite side of the fire, setting down his bag beside him. "Just some things I grabbed from the plane."

His target eyed him curiously. "You visited the plane?"

Karasuma nodded stiffly.

Korosensei waited in obvious anticipation for Karasuma to reveal the items he'd brought, but Karasuma pretended not to notice. The octopus looked on the verge of outright inquiring, but Karasuma was too quick.

"Let's make dinner," Karasuma said, cutting off anything his target may have asked.

Korosensei still looked curious, but he seemed to agree that dinner was the priority at the moment, if his stomach rumbling at the suggestion was any indication.

As the meal was slowly cooked and consumed, darkness fell upon the island, stars poking out through the clear night sky. When both teachers' appetites were fully sated, they sat back in the sand, eyes trained upon the crackling fire between them.

Eventually, Karasuma reached to his side and began to withdraw a few choice items from his bag.

Korosensei perked up immediately, craning his neck to see around the fire. First it was just two small, glass cups, but then…

"Is that  _wine_?" the former assassin exclaimed, incredulous.

Karasuma didn't answer, but handed him the bottle to inspect.

The former assassin grabbed it eagerly, holding it near the fire to make out the words on the label.

He whispered something foreign-sounding, then whistled.

It seemed that the octopus not only understood the label but recognized the brand. And if his whistle was anything to go by, it was some pretty high-end stuff, too.

"And you got this from the plane?" his target asked, still considering the label. When Karasuma gave his affirmation, his target whistled once again and handed the bottle back. "Good to see they're putting the state budget to good use," he said sarcastically.

Karasuma took the proffered bottle back and popped the cork, pouring some into the two cups without asking if the other man wanted any. When he handed one glass to his target, the man accepted it graciously, regarding it with obvious longing.

"Oh, it's been  _so long_ since I last had the good stuff," he gushed. "And in my other form, I could hardly enjoy alcohol at all, as I got wasted so quickly." He was practically drooling.

Karasuma smirked at the display and sipped at his own wine, letting the rich taste explode in his mouth, the alcohol tingling at the back of his throat.

His target soon followed suit, marveling at the exquisite taste. Needless to say, it wasn't very long before Karasuma was pouring them both seconds.

After three glasses, Karasuma was beginning to feel the alcohol's affects. His mind felt hazier, and his whole body tingled pleasantly. Lying back, Karasuma felt more content than he had in a while.

"It's a bit strange that we haven't seen a single boat yet," Karasuma remarked, looking up toward the stars. "No planes, either."

"Mhm," his target agreed, pouring himself a fourth cup.

_Surely, someone should have come to our rescue by now,_  Karasuma mused, but his mind was too hazy to be overly concerned with that fact.

Meanwhile, his target had finished his current glass off, and upon perceiving that Karasuma was finished drinking, he outright grabbed the bottle and took a large swig from it.

Karasuma still had enough sense to notice his target's activities. "Don't you think you've had enough?" he asked, a bit concerned.

Korosensei shook his head dumbly, obviously inebriated. "'m fine," he slurred, rubbing his mouth on his wrist. He took another swig from the bottle, a rivulet of wine escaping his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

Karasuma rolled to his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His brow creased with concern. "I think you've had enough."

His target ignored him, continuing to chug wine every few minutes, his body swaying where he sat. His eyes looked lazy and unfocused. "'m fine," he assured him, a dumb smile on his face.

Karasuma got shakily to his feet, moving adamantly toward his drunken companion with every intention of snatching the bottle from his grasp. Despite his drunken state, however, the former assassin was evidently still quite alert. Anticipating what Karasuma was trying to do, he stumbled away from him, possessively hugging the bottle close to his body.

" _I said 'm fine_ ," Korosensei insisted, his voice dropping an octave, no longer his trademark cheerful chirp. His smile was long gone, and his dark eyes simmered defensively.

Karasuma stopped short, not expecting the resistance. He had half a mind to let him drink himself silly if that was what he wanted, but he couldn't just leave his target to his own devices. If the octopus drank any more, he would be sick. At the rate he was going, he might even get alcohol poisoning. That was the  _last_  thing they needed. He considered wrestling the bottle from his target's hands. Should he risk it?

"Why does everyone always try to take everything from me?" Korosensei asked, lowering to his heels and huddling protectively around the wine.

Seeing his target act so strangely made Karasuma want to take the wine from him even more. The octopus' behavior disconcerted Karasuma more than he liked to admit; seeing his target so vulnerable felt deeply wrong somehow. He had to do something. "Octopus, you're drunk. Why don't you hand over the wine before you make a fool of yourself?"

"Dammit!" Korosensei suddenly cursed, making Karasuma start. The former assassin struggled to his knees before taking one last chug from the bottle, practically holding it vertical at this point. " _Dammit_!"

Karasuma stood stock-still with his mouth agape, watching the scene unfolding before him. He had always found himself especially inept with emotions, and generally made an effort to steer clear of them altogether. Faced with such a display as he was presently beset with, he was at an utter loss.

Without warning, Korosensei took the bottle by its neck and brandished it savagely. Karasuma took a shocked step back.

"Why 'm I so useless?!" Korosensei bellowed, addressing the unforthcoming darkness of the ocean. When he received no answer, he fell sideways onto the sand, curling in on himself, his back to Karasuma. "Why am I so useless?" A hint of a sob was creeping into his voice.

Karasuma advanced cautiously, unsure of what he had to do. All he knew was that he needed to get that alcohol away from him, which would hopefully calm the man down in the process.

"What are you talking about? You're a very capable person," Karasuma stated rather matter-of-factly, despite his efforts to leak some measure of sentimentality into his words.

"No!" his target shouted, his voice muffled as he curled himself tighter around the wine bottle. "I can't do anything right!"

Karasuma tried not to be intimidated as he crept ever closer. "Nonsense. Why would you think that?"

"Because Karasuma-sensei is always mad at me!"

Karasuma frowned at that, halting where he stood. Had he heard correctly?

"No matter what I do, it's never good enough," Korosensei continued to babble. "It's always 'you're too frivolous,' 'you're too carefree,' 'you're too this,' 'you're too that.'"

Karasuma had no answer to this unprecedented turn of events. The octopus was bothered by what he said?

"Where's your usual confidence, octopus?" Karasuma asked softly, hoping to thus inspire some back into him.

The answer he received was not at all what he had expected.

" _What_  confidence? There  _is_ no confidence," Korosensei spat. "There never  _was_  any."

Karasuma sensed that things were spiraling out of hand. Geez, and all he had wanted from the night was to get a little drunk and forget it all. Typical of the octopus to mess it all up for him.

Karasuma continued to creep towards his target; he was nearly to him. "Hey, why don't you hand over the wine," Karasuma beckoned, trying his best to sound inviting. "You'll feel much better."

Korosensei sat up abruptly, almost causing Karasuma to leap backward. "Don't you get it?!" he screamed. "It's all just a façade!"

Karasuma barely had time to still his heart before the tirade continued, bursting forth as if a dam had been broken.

"The kindness, the capability, the confidence, all of it, it's all just a  _fucking lie!_  I'm no  _kind person_ , not with all those people I've killed,  _completely innocent people_ —" his eyes blazed. "I'm not like her, who knew everything—I don't know a single  _goddamn_  thing about teaching, I can only feel around in the darkness and hope I'm doing half as well. Having someone like me—ME!—teach them, what kind of fucked up story is this? They'll probably just turn out like my last student, all fucked up and hating me like everyone  _else_  fucking does!" Korosensei stopped to catch his breath.

Karasuma sucked in a breath of his own; he hadn't even realized he'd been holding it.

Korosensei's breathing finally calmed, the fire in his eyes soon fading altogether. "How can I—how can I even be considered capable when I couldn't even save one woman?"

There were tears in his eyes, his voice strained. As if all his anger had been spent in that one outburst, he sank back down to the sand, crushing the wine bottle to his chest as tears streamed down his cheeks. He tilted his head down, and when he turned his back to Karasuma, he sniffed, as if trying to stifle any noise.

Karasuma was nearly upon him now, but he no longer knew what to say. What  _could_  he say? He never would have guessed that his target was holding so much inside. Naturally, he knew his circumstances—it was in his file—but he had just assumed that his happy-go-lucky target was of the flippant variety, utterly unconcerned and living in the present. Who would have guessed that such heavy baggage was dragging him down?

Karasuma's mouth moved before he could second guess himself. "I don't think you're useless."

His target didn't turn, but the sound of suppressed sobs quieted, the now nearly tangible silence punctuated only by intermittent sniffling. "You're not useless," Karasuma repeated, squatting down to his colleague's level. "I know that maybe it seems like I think that sometimes, which I do—er, I mean, you're not always useless—no," Karasuma gritted his teeth in frustration. This emotional stuff just wasn't for him. He sighed, giving up on trying to find the best wording.

"I guess what I mean is that we may have misunderstood each other."

Korosensei was completely silent now; even the sniffling had died down.

"I didn't know you felt that way. I'm not good at noticing those things," he carded a hand through his hair, unsure of what to say next. "So, if we're ever not seeing eye to eye about something, just say it out loud." There, he said it. It was a bit curt, definitely ineloquent, but he'd said it. To fill up the sudden vacuum between them, he hesitantly brought a hand to his colleague's head and patted it awkwardly.

Before he knew what had happened, Korosensei had turned himself around and hurled himself into Karasuma, hugging him tightly and burying his face in his chest. As if a dam had broken, suddenly he was crying, and not quiet sobs like before, but loud wails; his whole body shuddered as it was wracked by years of suppressed tears, his face wet with tears and snot.

Karasuma was paralyzed by the sudden embrace, his arms out as he stared down at the pitiful man who clung to him. While under normal circumstances he would have found himself annoyed, briskly peeling the man off of him and shoving him callously away, strangely enough, this time he felt no such urge.

Maybe it was because he was a little drunk himself, or that he saw it as a good chance to wrest the bottle from his grasp. Or perhaps it was because he understood his target a little better now and recognized that the octopus needed the catharsis that a good cry could provide. Regardless of the reason, he allowed him to stay where he was, even if he was making Karasuma's shirt quite the mess with all the tears and snot running down his face.

This time, Korosensei didn't resist when Karasuma reached around him and took a hold of the bottle's neck, gingerly tugging it from the former assassin's grasp and setting it well out of reach. Indeed, he seemed to barely notice it.

Awkwardly, Karasuma petted his head once again, his other arm reaching around him in some clumsy attempt at a loose hug, patting his back lightly in what he hoped was reassurance.

It was a long while before Korosensei's sobs died down, and when they did, his body rested limply against Karasuma's chest. It was as if all the liquor and the crying had left him completely sapped, which seemed to be the case.

"Octopus," Karasuma prompted, wondering if he had fallen asleep.

Korosensei groaned in response, Karsauma feeling the vibration of it through his clothes. So, he was still awake. Karasuma withdrew his arms from him, and when his colleague didn't stir, he ventured a question that had been at the tip of his tongue since the beginning of this incident.

"Why do you go out of your way to act so cheerful when you're suffering so much?"

For a minute, Karasuma thought he wouldn't answer, but then he felt more than heard the response mumbled into his chest.

"When I'm gone…that's how I want everyone to remember me."

Karasuma was taken aback by that, by the brevity of such a statement. Yes, that was right, wasn't it? This pitiful man in his arms, trying his best to be the ideal teacher, this broken man who was striving to keep this ridiculous façade of his up for the sake of the children in that classroom—

Yes, this man was his assassination target.

Regardless of however anyone felt about it, he would be dead in less than a year, whether someone killed him or not.

Karasuma did not have long to ponder the implications of such a statement before his target tore him from his thoughts with a warbled, helpless plea.

"Karasuma-sensei…"

"What is it?" Karasuma asked softly, his attention back in the present.

"I don't…feel so good."

And with that, his target promptly proceeded to vomit the entirety of his stomach's contents all over the distinguished ministry of defense worker.

Had Karasuma not been feeling a bit more lenient that night, he might have gone ballistic.

* * *

"Uuuuhhhn," Korosensei moaned, clutching his head as he sat at the fire. The mid-morning sun was bright overhead, only serving to further aggravate the former assassin's headache.

"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't drank so much last night," Karasuma reminded him, stirring the pot over the fire, in which a late-morning brunch simmered.

"You could have stopped me," his target whined, instantly regretting his rebuttal as he winced against the sudden flash of pain.

"I already told you that I did." Karasuma continued to stir breakfast.

Karasuma's target, quite predictably, was currently experiencing the hangover of his life. According to what he could get out of his whining target earlier, he remembered next to nothing from the night before. Apparently, his memory went right up to about his fourth glass of wine, and everything beyond that was anyone's guess. Karasuma, for his part, was rather glad that his target recalled nothing from the night before; it saved them both from embarrassment.

Unfortunately, Korosensei vomiting all over Karasuma may have been the first time Korosensei fell sick that night, but it certainly was not the last. After extracting himself from his target's embrace, a thoroughly disgusted Karasuma had located and donned another clean set of clothes, but when he returned to his target's side, he found him hurling once again. Korosensei spent the better part of the night sick, but Karasuma stayed by his side all the while.

When his target seemed to have nothing left to throw up, he collapsed, utterly spent, and it fell onto Karasuma to make sure that he drank some water. It wouldn't do to have him get dehydrated, and after all that, Karasuma could only imagine the raw burn of his throat. After downing some water, his target had blacked out completely, and Karasuma begrudgingly gave the poor man a piggy back ride to their tepee, where Karasuma laid him down for the night. Naturally, it was Karasuma who had to deal with the mess that was made, and after resigning himself to the task, he was finally able to lay down for the night at a very late hour.

Needless to say, Karasuma had seen a side of his target that he hadn't necessarily wanted to. It felt icky to him; like he'd been prying, like he knew something he was never supposed to know, something very private and personal. After all, his target wanted him to remember him as his goofy octopus self; but Karasuma could not so easily erase the image of the broken man collapsed in his arms.

This feeling of knowing his target's secret, when his target wasn't even aware of what happened, was terribly awkward, and it ate away at him more than he liked to admit. Karasuma could barely even look his target in the eye.

"The sun is hurting my eyes," Korosensei complained, squinting.

"Then go into the shade," Karasuma suggested flatly, refusing to look up from his task.

Korosensei grumbled and staggered to his feet, his hands still pressed to his head as he shuffled away.

Karasuma stopped his task to stare at his target's retreating form.

Sheesh, he thought he hated his target.

He watched Korosensei stumble and nearly trip, only just barely managing to keep himself upright.

Hate, huh? It was a shame that things could never be as black and white as that.

* * *

 The only thing on Korosensei's mind was the pain. This particular hangover was definitely the worst one to date. He cursed his past self to the crescent moon and back for drinking so much.

The sun was bright today,  _too bright_ , he thought as he made his way across the sand. He had thought that maybe some breakfast might help, but with the way his brain was throbbing, he was starting to think he should have never gotten out of bed.

He decided that he would go back to sleep in the relative darkness that their small shelter provided, for the idea appealed to him immensely. First, though, he was headed toward the blessed shade of the forest. He had to relieve himself.

The densely packed trees provided ample shade, much to the former assassin's relief. After finishing his business, he stood and basked in the cool darkness, wanting to get back to the shelter but reluctant to walk across hot sand and through glaring sunlight to get there.

It was just when he was about to make the trek to their shelter that his hair stood on end and his blood ran cold.

His heart stopped. It was bloodlust, and more concentrated than he'd felt in a long time.

Emanating from right behind him.

He turned around slowly, his heart thumping erratically against his ribcage. A native? A poacher? His muddled brain whirled with possibilities.

When his eyes alighted upon the object of his fears, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

Before him stood a vibrantly colored, exotic-looking songbird, cocking its head sideways to regard him. He might have laughed, had the rather disturbing bloodlust not still been present.

"What are you doing here, little guy?" he asked it, trying to appear amiable even as he scanned the area for the source of the bloodlust. He was a little shocked, honestly. He hadn't heard the bird arrive at all. No flutter of wings, no rustle of leaves.

His addled brain was a bit slow, but it eventually occurred to him that this was the first animal they had yet seen on the island. Strange, especially considering the fact that it was accompanied by such bloodlust.

He only began to connect the dots when two tentacles began to extend from the bird's neck, arcing gracefully before plunging toward him.


	7. A Dire Situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter yet, and it sure took forever to edit, let me tell you. I might have missed things, though, so if you notice any inconsistencies or errors, please inform me of them. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

The wind blew pleasantly, a lazy and salty breeze that rustled Karasuma's shirt. Karasuma closed his eyes for just a second as he stirred breakfast. Despite his attempts to apply sunscreen daily, he was beginning to feel the onset of sunburn. Strangely enough, though, he couldn't bring himself to care. The sun was warm but not yet too hot, the soft breeze was soothing, and the cerulean sky overhead was dotted with perfect white clouds. Above all, there was a perfect,  _perfect_  silence.

In that moment, Karasuma could almost convince himself that he wasn't trapped on this island, but instead vacationing here in paradise.

"Karasuma-sensei!"

Karasuma shut his eyes tighter. He did not just hear that. This island was a  _paradise,_ after all. There are no headaches in paradise.

"Karasuma-sensei!"

Ah, there it was again. But no, it couldn't be. That frantic call, at first distant but now sounding even closer, could not be a call of distress.

"Help!"

He refused to look up. Acknowledging the almost certain disaster would make it real.

"KARASUMA-SENSEI, HELP!"

By now, Karasuma could feel an approaching bloodlust that was strengthening by the second, as if it was getting closer. Karasuma leaned his head back in defeat, his hands curling into fists. Well, best get it over with quickly and find out what the octopus had gotten himself into  _this_  time.

When he snapped his eyes open, it took a moment for his vision to adjust in the glaring sunlight, but once it had, it took little more than a second to register the sight of his target barreling towards him across the beach, a tiny, bright bird with—if his eyes could be believed— _tentacles_ in hot pursuit.

Suddenly, the bird sent one of its tentacles whizzing through the air, only narrowly missing the former assassin and sending sand up in a cloud where it impacted the beach with a resounding  _thud_.

"KarasumaAaaAaAAAA—!" Korosensei shrieked, his voice sounding nearly two octaves higher, if that were possible.

Karasuma took everything back. This island, this horrible, terrible island was anything but paradise; it was Hell.

It took less than a second for Karasuma to swing into action. Dropping the ladle into the breakfast pot, Karasuma's hand flew to his gun, quickly raising his arm and taking aim. The octopus made no move to get out of the way; not that he easily could, of course, not with a creature like that on his tail, but Karasuma supposed if he really wanted to he could have managed. The octopus knew what a good shot Karasuma was, so he must trust his aim to be true, even at this distance.

And indeed it was. Karasuma fired, the bullet whizzing through the air and making a direct impact with the bird. Under normal circumstances, a bullet of that size on a bird so small would have torn the thing apart, sending feathers flying as what remained of the tiny body careened back to earth. However, there were no squawks, no feathers sent flying.

Nothing.

Karasuma was sure that he had hit it, though. Had he actually missed?

Karasuma took aim and fired again, eyes focused more intensely on the bird this time. Time seemed to slow down as he watched the bullet slice through the air and directly into the bird's chest.

Karasuma's eyes widened and he watched in abject horror as the bullet disappeared inside the bird with seemingly no effect. No, disappeared was the wrong word. The bullet was  _swallowed._ What's more, he recognized that reaction.

His assassination target and the tentacled bird following close behind him were nearly to the campsite as Karasuma flung his gun to the ground and reached for his SAAUSO gun that was loaded with anti-sensei BB's. Just when his target managed to narrowly avoid another blow from the bird's tentacles, Karasuma fired, the bullet finding its mark, and this time there was a horrible squawking as the bird's flight faltered, its chest cavity melting into a familiar goop.

It seemed he had missed the creature's heart, but Karasuma didn't dwell on it. He hardly paused as he raised his gun and fired once, twice more, each shot finding its mark.

The bird released a piercing screech, angered and in pain, and when one of the anti-sensei bullets found its wing, it plunged toward the ground.

Karasuma clucked his tongue as he lost a good visual on the bird and ran closer to finish the job, but he wasn't fast enough. Recovering from the initial shock of being wounded, once the bird had regenerated its chest, it grabbed onto a far off tree branch with its tentacles and pulled itself forward at an incredible speed, disappearing into the jungle with little more than a rustle of leaves.

With the immediate danger gone, Korosensei wasted no time in flopping face-first into the sand, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

Karasuma ran to him immediately, allowing him no time to recover as he began to bombard him with questions. "What the  _hell_  was that thing, octopus?!" he demanded.

"Please, please,  _please_  slow down, Karasuma-sensei, my head still hurts you know," he complained breathlessly, spitting out a mouthful of sand as he looked up at the man looming over him.

Karasuma crossed his arms, in no mood to show his target any remorse when this unprecedented predicament had his name written all over it. "You better explain and you better do it  _fast_ ," he threatened, expression dark.

Korosensei pressed his lips into a firm line and closed his eyes, flipping over onto his back in an attempt to regulate his breathing again.

Karasuma tapped his foot in impatience.

Korosensei sighed in defeat. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?!" Karasuma roared, kneeling and grabbing onto the octopus's tie, which he pulled on until his target's face was only centimeters from his own clearly irate one.

Korosensei raised his arms in surrender, shrinking back as far from his snarling coworker as possible. "It means I don't know! Honestly!"

Karasuma eyed him critically. "So you're telling me you have  _no idea_  why you no longer have your tentacles, but that bird somehow has them?"

"Yes?"

Karasuma shoved his target back to the sand and got to his feet, pacing back and forth as he tried to peer past his anger and make sense of it all.

For once in his life, the octopus had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

"That bird's whole body was made of antimatter," Karasuma finally said, pausing as he ran a hand through his hair. "And I get the feeling that we haven't seen the last of it."

Karasuma looked at his anti-sensei gun, only one bullet left in his current clip. He inwardly kicked himself upon the realization that that was his last one; he'd used all the other BB's when he'd attacked his target in a fit of rage, back when he had first discovered the octopus had been stripped of his antimatter cells.

With tentacles like the bird had, close-combat was hardly an option, Karasuma thought grimly as he regarded his anti-sensei knife. If they wanted to survive, their only chance was to scrounge up more anti-sensei bullets.

"Octopus," Karasuma began. "Remember that night when you told me you'd lost your tentacles?"

Korosensei nodded.

"And all the anti-sensei bullets I fired at you?"

"Yeah, that hurt," Korosensei grumbled, but then his eyes lit up as he caught Karasuma's drift.

"I'll take the area closer to the forest," Karasuma said. "You can take the area closer to the ocean."

Korosensei nodded as he stood, brushing sand from his clothes. Without another word, both men took off in the direction of their first campsite.

* * *

"Any luck?" Korosensei asked as he approached the spot where Karasuma was kneeling in the shade, hand combing through the sand in search of anti-sensei bullets.

Karasuma opened his left hand to reveal twelve BB's. "You?"

Korosensei opened his own hand to reveal only eight. "This was all I could find."

Karasuma went back to searching through the sand, but he watched his target sit in the shade out of the corner of his eye. The octopus was panting and rubbing at his temples; his headache must still be bothering him. "Let's switch spots," Karasuma suggested, getting to his feet and sliding the anti-sensei bullets into a pocket.

Korosensei graciously accepted, a grateful look on his face.

Karasuma crunched out onto the sunny beach, eyes squinting in the sudden brightness. The glare from the sun and the white sandy beach reflecting it burned behind his eyes. When he'd reached a spot that appeared undisturbed by his target's searching, he knelt to resume his search.

To his dismay, he found that the area he was searching was relatively devoid of the BB's, just as the other spots were. He had used six full magazines of anti-sensei bullets that night, yet they'd only managed to locate about twenty individual BB's so far. It was possible that some of them had been washed away or buried by the recent rain, and the ones closer to the ocean could have been swept out to sea by the tide.

Karasuma sighed, slipping the few bullets he'd recovered into his pocket. Standing up, he looked to the sky, where the white puffy clouds of earlier were growing bigger and darker, as if an afternoon storm was brewing. He could smell rain on the wind.

Karasuma briskly returned to where his target was sitting in the shade and combing his fingers through the sand. "Find any more?" he asked.

His target held up a solitary BB.

"I think we'll have to make do with what we've found," Karasuma said, gesturing to the sky which was clouding up at an alarming rate. "For now let's return to camp and pack up. We should move to a different site before that bird returns."

In agreement, Korosensei stood, slipping the anti-sensei BB's he'd collected into one of his pockets. Then the two men jogged down the beach to their campsite, the sun gradually being stifled by the clouds overhead.

* * *

Belongings clinked against each other as the teachers shoved them hurriedly into bags, trying their best to be both expedient and effective in their packing, though the mess they were creating suggested otherwise. The tentacled bird showed no sign of returning, but it was a viable possibility at any moment.

Overhead, the sky was overcast, the entire island now bathed in a dull gray light.

Karasuma paused in his packing, scrutinizing his personal cache of spare weapons. After a minute he picked one up, turning it over in his hands as he contemplated it.

"Here, take this," Karasuma said, throwing an anti-sensei gun to his target without so much as a warning.

Korosensei dropped what he was doing and fumbled to catch it, nearly dropping it in the process.

"You'll probably be needing that," he advised, turning back to his work. "And this," he added, throwing a thigh holster over his shoulder.

Korosensei regarded the toy-like SAAUSO gun and holster in his hands with an unreadable expression, then tucked it into the holster and secured it to his body.

Meanwhile, Karasuma gazed skyward at the ever-darkening sky.

The smell of rain hung thick in the air now, and the waves that crashed into shore were coming in much larger and faster than before. Further out, the ocean looked choppier. A wind was starting to pick up.

Karasuma frowned. From the looks of things, this was going to be no mere shower, not even a downpour would probably do this storm justice.

They had two choices: they could stay at the campsite where it would be dry and risk high winds, lightning, and the return of the tentacled bird, or they could venture out to find a safer location, but be forced to brave the storm out in the open.

Upon zipping up his pack with an unmistakable finality, Korosensei looked up from his task and noticed the furrow of Karasuma's brow, intuiting his dilemma.

"Damned if we do and damned if we don't, huh?"

Karasuma glanced at him from the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the sky.

Even when he was not looking at him, though, Karasuma could practically feel his target standing there awkwardly, fidgeting as if there was something on his mind that he was desperately trying not to blurt out.

"Have something to contribute?" Karasuma asked, not even sparing him a second glance.

"No, not at all," his target assured him, though he continued to stand there in an uncomfortable silence.

Karasuma sighed, turning to him. "Alright, what is it?"

His target stared at him as if he had grown a third eye. "You want to hear... _my_ opinion?" he pointed to his chest incredulously.

"Out with it before I change my mind," Karasuma grumbled, a flash of impatience flickering across his face.

"Well," Korosensei hurriedly began, as if his viewpoint being valued by Karasuma was the honor of a lifetime, "I thought it might be more beneficial if we stayed on the beach for now. I mean...the storm is nearly here, and we're going to need shelter during it. Plus, I doubt that bird will be returning in that kind of weather. Not when its tentacles bloat when in contact with water."

"What about after the rain?" Karasuma countered. "Won't the bird have a clear shot at us, then?"

Korosensei shook his head. "It'll probably stay deep in the forest to avoid the rain, but if not, it'll be too bloated to make a move right away."

Karasuma cast a doubtful look to their shelter. "You think that will withstand the storm?"

Korosensei followed his gaze. "It'll have to."

Karasuma remained silent, furrowing his brow as he considered. From what he could tell, the wind was blowing from the opposite side of the island, the dense forest of tall trees acting as a barricade between the worst of it and their shelter. Like this, perhaps their quaint shelter would indeed avoid the brunt of the storm. There was no perfect scenario here, to be certain, but the octopus posed a reasonable argument. He had no better plan himself, and the rolling thunder was no longer distant.

"Okay," Karasuma relented, picking up his bag. "We stay. But the minute the storm ends, we leave camp. I'm not about to let that fowl catch up to us."

Korosensei beamed, clearly pleased that Karasuma had chosen his plan. There was an unmistakable spring to his step as he picked up his own bag and followed Karasuma to their shelter.

Karasuma pretended not to notice and shook his head almost imperceptibly.

* * *

The two men sat huddled in their shelter as the wind picked up, the swishing sound of the trees being swayed almost deafening. Still, not a drop of rain had fallen.

"This storm is looking pretty bad," Korosensei said, a nervous tightness to his voice as he peered outside at the nearly black sky.

Suddenly, there was a blinding streak of lightning that lit the clouds, accompanied by a nearly simultaneous clap of thunder that shook the earth. Korosensei jumped back.

Karasuma didn't say a word, only clenching his fists in his lap. He was getting concerned. He had expected the storm to be bad, but it was appearing worse by the second, and not a single drop of rain had fallen yet to boot. Part of the reason he had so readily agreed to stay at their current site to weather the storm was because he believed the rain would momentarily begin, and just as the tentacled bird needed shelter from it, they needed shelter as well. Without the rain, though, they were like sitting ducks, ripe pickings for an enraged tentacle creature.

Karasuma looked up to regard his target, who was doing a poor job of disguising his anxiety. With his shoulders squared, back ramrod straight, and fingers fiddling unconsciously with his tie, he looked every bit as tense as Karasuma felt.

Korosensei nearly jumped when another clap of thunder sounded, sounding as if it was to the right—no, to the left—no,  _everywhere._ The entire island shook on its foundation.

Karasuma had seen enough. "This storm is looking a lot worse than we originally thought. I don't think this shelter is going to last."

Korosensei met his eyes, and the two exchanged a look of understanding.

"Where will we go?"

Karasuma clenched his fists. "There's a cave in some rock formations toward the other end of the island. It would provide shelter from the storm and any falling trees."

Korosensei looked at him, aghast. "That's in the forest."

"Yes."

"What if it corners us in the cave? We'll have nowhere to run."

Karasuma grit his teeth. "I know. But we're running out of options. If it's between getting blown away in this storm and fighting off a single bird, I'd rather take the bird."

For once, Korosensei looked to have misgivings.

Karasuma rolled his eyes. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Korosensei bit his lip, as if he was about to say something that might incur wrath, but in the end he decided against it. "No," he finally said. "Your plan has sound reasoning."

At the back of his mind, Karasuma was curious as to what his target was originally going to say, but another flash of lightning and boom of thunder, this time much too close for comfort, reminded him that time was of the essence. "Let's go," Karasuma said, shrugging on his pack and drawing his anti-sensei gun. "Maybe we can reach the cave before the rain starts."

Korosensei nodded, drawing his own gun as well and exiting the tepee behind his colleague.

Outside, the sky was nearly pitch black, and the wind howled through the trees hauntingly. At sea, the waves were choppy as they crashed relentlessly into the shore.

Karasuma took a quick look around, and when the coast seemed clear he ventured further onto the beach, beckoning his target to follow and making a beeline for the forest. He continued to eye the dense foliage for any signs of bloodlust or tentacles when—

"Look out!"

—his target tackled him to the sand, something whizzing right over their heads and plunging into the ground directly behind Karasuma, only inches from his body.

Korosensei didn't even have time to ask if Karasuma was okay, instead jumping back to his feet and raising his gun, taking aim, and firing.

Karasuma reeled, having had the wind knocked out of him, and the fast change of pace left him disoriented. Karasuma didn't have to look to know, but unable to resist, he craned his neck to see it embedded in the sand behind him.

It was a tentacle.

In a fraction of a moment, the tentacle suddenly vanished, retracted at a terrifyingly quick speed by its owner. Karasuma could only blink in disbelief at the small indent in the sand it had left, the only evidence that the tentacle had ever been there at all.

"Agh!" his target screamed, and Karasuma whipped toward him just in time to see Korosensei's gun torn from his grasp by a different tentacle. Despite the setback, Korosensei didn't miss a beat, his other hand flying to his anti-sensei knife and countering blow after blow as the tentacles whisked toward him at an ungodly speed.

Karasuma quickly grabbed the gun he had dropped when he'd been tackled, trying to aim it but never able to get a solid sight on anything. The tentacles' movements were too fast; he could scarcely see them at all.

He was amazed that his target was capable of fending them off to the degree he was, but even he was clearly struggling.

Suddenly, a tentacle came shooting toward Karasuma, only barely missing because of the knife the former assassin threw in his direction, intercepting the tentacle before it ever reached Karasuma. In the blink of an eye, Korosensei rolled to avoid another strike from the tentacles and to simultaneously retrieve the gun he had dropped. Still on the ground, flat on his back, he fired three shots, catching three tentacles only a few inches from his face, tentacles that had tried to catch him while he was down.

With a start, Karasuma realized that his target was fending off tentacles aimed not just at himself, but at the both of them.

"Octopus, fall back!" Karasuma shouted, raising his gun. "I will assist!"

His target rolled and jumped to his feet, avoiding two tentacles and destroying two more. His magazine empty, Korosensei rolled over, simultaneously ditching the old magazine and withdrawing a spare one from the holster on his leg. He reloaded swiftly, not even looking at what he was doing as he was forced to keep his eyes on the assault.

"STAY BACK!" Korosensei shouted to him, his voice stronger than Karasuma had ever heard it. "This is nothing you would be able to handle!" He parried a particularly swift blow from a tentacle.

Karasuma felt a spike of annoyance. Where did he get off addressing him like that, one of the most capable Ministry of Defense agents in Japan?

Yet as he watched his target fight, Karasuma became keenly aware of just how out of his league he was. This was a battle at a completely different level. He could barely even see his enemy's strikes, let alone counter them. His fingers itched to do something, not used to standing idly by, utterly useless.

As he could only watch and stay alert for any strikes that his target may miss, he became increasingly aware of his target's skill. So this was the man they called the God of Death?

Indeed, there was something ethereal to his movements, to be sure. Even in the midst of a battle with multiple opponents and incoming strikes so fast they were nearly invisible, the octopus's movements showcased a certain inexplicable grace. The way he so fluidly ducked and rolled out the way, only to effortlessly strike back at the perfect moment, each movement leading into the next as if his motions were flowing notes in a concerto.

Karasuma could see now why he had become the finest assassin in the business. Assassination was not his occupation; it was his art.

And he had mastered his craft.

Suddenly, Karasuma felt a drop of water on his head.

Rain.

He stuck his hand out and sure enough, a light sprinkle had begun, but it wasn't nearly enough, not yet.

"It's raining!" Karasuma shouted to his target, but if Korosensei heard, he offered no indication. He was thoroughly embroiled in the heat of battle.

The wind was picking up even more, and Karasuma had to squint to avoid sand being blown into his eyes.

Suddenly there was a whoosh, and with a gasp, Karasuma realized that another tentacle had joined the fray. However, while the previous ones they'd been fighting were black and a vibrant orange—the colors of the tentacles' owner—the new one was a dark green. There was another  _whoosh_ , and in the blink of an eye, his target was fending off an additional two tentacles.

That could only mean that there were more than one creature with tentacles on the island.

But how many?

The storm was picking up, but the assault was not weakening. If anything, it was gaining strength. The rain had not begun in earnest yet, so the enemy was still at full force.

Korosensei furiously met the opponent blow for blow at an impossible speed, but it was clear that even he was struggling. It was subtle, but his movements had become slightly sluggish. In a normal fight, such a minute difference would have had zero ramifications, but in a fight of this caliber, it was deadly, for even one slight misstep could spell instantaneous death.

Suddenly, a gray tentacle shot from the forest, hurtling toward Korosensei at an extraordinary speed.

Korosensei was in line to easily sidestep it as he thrust up his weapon up to catch another tentacle before it could reach him. But he never got to execute his plan.

At that precise moment, a large gust of wind tore across the island, slamming into the two men and causing Korosensei to stumble sideways—

—and right into the path of the incoming tentacle.

Korosensei hissed through his teeth as the tentacle grazed his side, narrowly avoiding what could have been a fatal strike. Despite the close call, he didn't have time to hesitate, ignoring his wound and only barely managing to roll out of the way in time to avoid strikes from the other tentacles whizzing toward him.

Though the wind had been responsible for endangering him, it brought with it too salvation in the form of rain, which quickly began to pour down, slamming the island with a torrential downpour. The attacking tentacles were quickly rendered useless as they were soaked through with water, becoming so bloated they could scarcely move and were dropped to the ground, some of the creatures even trying to withdraw them. A horrible cacophony arose from the trees, primal shrieks and cries of frustration and anger as tentacles became useless and the creatures found themselves unable to carry out their bloodlust.

Karasuma was not one to generally feel fear, but upon hearing such an ungodly noise, he felt it quite acutely.

God, how many of those monsters  _were_  there?

With the immediate danger put on hold, Karasuma soon became keenly aware of the secondary threat. Rain was slamming into him like a brick wall, threatening to bowl him over, and the wind was howling and swirling sand and water and debris into his face. Very quickly, visibility became almost nonexistent.

In only a few seconds, he found that his clothes were soaked through, not a single patch of dry cloth to be found. In a horrendously contradictory fashion, his water-saturated garments hung heavily from his frame while simultaneously sticking tightly to his body. Karasuma squinted to see through the deluge of water.

"Octopus!" Karasuma called, digging his heels into the sand for traction as he walked toward the general area where his target was, bracing himself so as to not be whisked away by the storm. Over the roar of the rain, Karasuma could hardly even hear himself, let alone an answer to his call.

Naturally, Karasuma heard no response to his call, but as he squinted his eyes and held a hand up to shield his face, he could make out the form of of the octopus getting to his feet maybe ten feet from him.

It took longer than it should have to finally reach each other, each man forcing himself onward until they were face to face with one another, soaked to the bone with water streaming freely down their faces.

"Follow me!" Korosensei had to yell, though he was barely a foot from Karasuma. He turned and trudged onward, a sense of urgency to his rather labored steps.

"What are you doing?" Karasuma yelled back. "The cave is that way!" Just then, a particularly strong gust of wind sliced across the island, the sheer force of it shoving Karasuma backward, causing him to nearly stumble. When he snapped his head back up again, he found that the gust had even thrown his target, no doubt a much lighter person, to the ground.

"Octopus!" he shouted again, forcing himself onward as he walked straight into the wind. When he reached his target's side, Korosensei was trying to push himself back to his feet without falling backwards, to little success.

Wordlessly, Karasuma bent down and slung his target's left arm across his shoulders, draping his own right arm over his. With an almighty push the two found themselves standing once again.

On their feet again, Korosensei tried to disentangle himself from Karasuma's grip and continue walking on his own when Karasuma caught his left wrist, his right hand tightening on his target's right shoulder.

"We'll get nowhere like that," Karasuma shouted over the din. "We'll get blown away. We have to combine our weight to withstand it!"

Korosensei looked at him incredulously, but as Karasuma tried to turn them around and head back the other way, Korosensei snapped out of his surprise.

"The cave's no longer an option!" Korosensei shouted. "It's deep in the forest, where the animals are! It will be dryer there, they'll get us!"

"What do you suggest then?!" Karasuma shouted back, more than a little angry.

"We have to stay out in the open like this, where it's wet!"

Karasuma shot him an incredulous look of his own as if to ask if he was crazy, and as if to prove his point, a bolt of lightning streaked to the ground on the opposite side of the island, a resounding crash echoing throughout the heavens.

"Are you insane!? We'll die!"

"I know a place!" Korosensei insisted, "Where we'll be safe. We just have to get to the other side of the island!"

"Look what happened the last time we followed your plan!" Karasuma rebutted, unable to physically gesture to their current situation but obviously referring to it.

Korosensei held his gaze regardless, silently pleading. This was their only chance.

Karasuma sent him a long look, staring into his pleading eyes as his distressed brain grasped for something better—something, anything! But there were no alternatives. As if to remind him of their dire situation, another flash lit the sky and a crack of thunder shook the island.

With a final, reluctant glare, Karasuma relented. "Don't mess this up!" Turning briskly, Karasuma faced forward and trudged onward.

The two men leaned heavily upon one another as they slowly moved, their steps perfectly in sync. The rain came in sheets, lashing mercilessly at them, the pair gripping each other's shoulders for balance as wind and debris threatened to tear them apart.

Soon, Karasuma could feel Korosensei growing heavier with each step, and annoyed, he looked down to see what his problem was. Opening his mouth, all too prepared to berate him, he shut it just as quickly when he realized that his target's head was hanging and lulling to one side. His target had not just been leaning on him for balance, it seemed; he had been leaning on him for support.

"Octopus!" he shouted, stopping in his tracks and shaking his target's shoulders. "What's wrong? Hey!"

Korosensei raised his head a fraction at that, his eyes only half open. "I'm fine, I'm fine," Korosensei assured him, trying to take a step forward and nearly falling when Karasuma didn't step forward as well. Though he was conscious, and he was making a valiant effort to walk, he was still leaning much too heavily upon Karasuma.

Karasuma gave him a severe look, searching his target's face for any signs of pain, but found none. Instead, he noticed how pale he was. Was he always this pale? Or was it just the rain?

Karasuma shifted his arm around his target's back and under his right arm to better support him as Karasuma leaned forward and craned his neck around his target's front.

His heart stopped when he saw it.

His target's entire left side was  _covered_  in blood. It was plain to see on his outlandishly tacky, yellow Hawaiian shirt. The rain only made it worse, streaking the red down his side and onto his leg.

"When?!" Karasuma demanded, causing Korosensei's dull irises to flick towards him for the briefest of seconds before snapping back to stare intently in the opposite direction.

"We're almost there," Korosensei said, completely ignoring the question. "I'll be fine."

Karasuma opened his mouth to protest, but Korosensei, anticipating his words, cut him off.

"Karasuma,  _please_."

Karasuma balked at that. Hearing his name from his target's mouth without the affectionate "sensei" tacked on felt foreign and wrong, leaving him with a horrible churning in his gut. Karasuma closed his mouth, pressing his lips into a thin line.

When had it happened? How could he have not noticed? He had been watching him fight the whole time, and they'd been holding onto each other as they fought the violent storm for even longer. How could he have possibly missed his target's injury?

Karasuma grit his teeth, raindrops slicing like knives into his back.

It took but a second for him to make up his mind.

"You stupid octopus!" he bellowed, hoisting Korosensei up by the underarm and allowing him to lean practically the entirety of his body weight on him. "Bunch up your shirt and press it to that wound! I'm not about to have you bleed out on me!"

With that and an almighty heave, Karasuma plunged into the wind, feeling how his target tried his utmost not to burden him, attempting to carry all of his weight that he could and trying to keep his feet moving in sync with Karasuma's.

"There!" Korosensei finally blurted, albeit weakly, raising an arm to point faintly in the direction of a copse of trees.

"That's the forest!" Karasuma objected.

"Trust me," Korosensei said, smiling reassuringly.

Karasuma grumbled but followed the course that his target's finger indicated, diving into the swaying trees, wet leaves clinging to him as he went.

"Hey, octopus, are you sure—" Karasuma trailed off as he beheld the sight of a footpath. It was narrow and barely noticeable due to the flora that tried to grow and obscure it. It seemed like it had been forged by the shuffling feet of the island's animals, but had fallen into disuse as of late.

It was much dryer here in the trees, and the wind didn't whip quite as fiercely as it did on the open beach. However, Karasuma was instantly wary now that they were in the forest; the danger of tentacles lurked around every corner.

Karasuma followed the footpath until suddenly, the trees began to noticeably thin until Karasuma and his target found themselves looking up at a waterfall. It wasn't huge, its water source being only a creek after all, but with the rain feeding into it, it ran quite steadily. The bluff it ran off of was not towering, but it was reasonably tall, perhaps the height of some of the medium sized trees in the forest.

It was strange; Karasuma hadn't noticed this waterfall before when they'd been mapping out the island. How had the octopus known about it?

"What now, octopus?" Karasuma demanded.

"Behind the waterfall," Korosensei muttered, sounding terribly weak despite his efforts to hide it.

Karasuma tightened his hold on the other man. "What do you mean?"

"There's a cave...behind the waterfall...we'll be safe there," he paused before continuing, struggling to catch his breath. "We'll have to cross on those rocks," he said gesturing to a cluster of large rocks that peeked above to racing current of the creek. "There's an entrance on the other side."

Karasuma stared at the places his target had pointed out, planning their route. The creek had flooded its banks, making it nearly impossible to get to the waterfall on this side of the creek. Sure enough, on the other side of the waterfall, there was a pile of boulders that looked easy enough to climb, leading up to a spot in the waterfall where the water didn't cascade down quite as fiercely. On any other day, they could have easily crossed the creek with parkour alone, but the raging storm made such a feat too risky now. They would have to traverse the creek on foot. As it were, the rocks in the creek looked sturdy enough, but the rain had made them slick and slippery, and if they took so much as one wrong step, they would both be pulled into the creek.

Noticing Karasuma's reluctance, Korosensei untangled himself from the other man's grip and forced himself upright, still holding a hand bunched in his reddened shirt to his side.

"Hey—" Karasuma protested, but Korosensei cut him off.

"I'll be fine, I think the bleeding is starting to stop," Korosensei said, nearly fooling Karasuma had a small twitch at the corner of his smile not given him away. "I know the way. Follow me."

Karasuma watched suspiciously as his target walked forward with surprising wellness, scarcely a trace of injury to be seen in his demeanor, then stepped swiftly onto one slippery rock and then onto another. Reluctantly, Karasuma followed.

Toward the center of the creek, there were hardly any tree branches hanging above and providing shelter from the elements. The wind somehow wormed its way into the forest and the rain crashed down just as hard as ever. Karasuma was hyper-conscious of every slippery step he took.

"Hey, Octopus," Karasuma called ahead to his target, who was already a few steps ahead of him. "Octopus!" he repeated when he received no response, shouting to be heard above the storm.

As it was, Karasuma was struggling with every step he took, understanding full well that a single misstep would leave him submerged and whisked downstream. His target seemed less concerned with his footsteps, as if the only thing left on his mind was getting to the cave as quickly as possible. In a few seconds he might even be out of reach.

"Octopus, slow down!" Karasuma demanded, voice strained as he tried to increase his speed while not falling. The octopus was being reckless again, wasn't he?

Suddenly, Korosensei flailed his arms wildly as if losing balance, but he just as quickly managed to right himself again before any damage could be done.

The small hiccup in his pace allowed Karasuma the window he needed in order to catch up to his target, however.

"Don't be so reckless!" Karasuma chided him. He shot his target a severe glare, but his target avoided it.

Korosensei dismissed his concerns, instead stepping to the next rock. "I'm fine. Let's keep going."

Karasuma was not nearly so dense as he let on, though. While he could admit that he'd been largely ignoring his target ever since they had crash-landed on this God-forsaken island, his target had a way of forcing his way into things. Despite Karasuma's efforts to keep the other man out of his life, being trapped together on this island had made such an option an impossibility, and in the process Karasuma had ended up gaining a more intimate understanding of his target than he ever cared to.

Before, he may not have noticed. It was in his small gestures, ones Karasuma would have easily dismissed as pride in the past, having possessed only a base understanding of the machinations of his target's mind at the time.

But it was no longer "before." That's why, when his target so adamantly refused eye-contact with him, even going so far as to turn his back to him, Karasuma knew it was not mere pride that spurred him on.

It was the same reason he hadn't told Karasuma about his injury, the same reason that he was keeping things like secret waterfall caves a secret, the same reason he refused to share his ideas.

A miserable, drunken version of his target surfaced in his mind, his slurred voice ringing in Karasuma's head.

_"I can't do anything right!"_

_"No matter what I do, it's never good enough."_

_"Because Karasuma-sensei is always mad at me!"_

It was the reason why he had looked so happy when Karasuma had adopted his plan.

"Can you walk?" Karasuma inquired.

"I'm perfectly fine. I almost slipped is all," Korosensei assured him, yet never turned to meet his gaze.

However, when Korosensei began to step forward, Karasuma caught his arm. "Look at me."

Korosensei wouldn't.

"Look at me," Karasuma repeated, grip tightening on his arm.

Still, Korosensei wouldn't.

Korosensei tried to pull free from Karasuma's grip, but Karasuma was too strong. "Stubborn octopus," Karasuma grumbled grimly, correctly interpreting what his target's lack of a verbal response and eye contact meant. Without so much as a warning, he swept the former assassin up in his arms, surprised to find how light he was.

"Hey!" Korosensei protested, but even his protests lacked spirit. Looking at his face, Karasuma could see why his target wouldn't show it to him. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was deathly pale. With all the rain glancing off of it, his skin even had a clammy pallor to it. No one who saw that face would believe for a second that the person it belonged to was in any way "fine." No forged smile, no matter how impenetrable the disguise, could hide something like that.

"If you needed help, then you should've just said so," Karasuma fumbled for the right words to express himself. As much as he himself hated it, he could see that lone-wolf assassin-style tactics were out of the question now. If they wanted to survive this ordeal, their only hope was to operate as a team.

"How can I expect to leave this island alone?" Karasuma finally blurted, stepping forward slowly as he focused on each step he took, looking for sturdy rocks that would provide the most traction. "Listen to me. As far as I'm concerned, you are no longer my target. I was assigned to kill a super creature, not a man. But to those students, you are still  _their_  target," he continued. "And I am not about to let them down. So we are  _both_  getting back to that classroom, understand? Those kids are waiting for us."

Karasuma took another step.

"They're waiting for  _you_."

For a moment, Korosensei didn't say a word or give any indication that he'd heard, and for a second Karasuma thought he might have passed out. Until—

"That one," Korosensei finally said, pointing faintly to a rock to his left. "Take that rock."

Karasuma eyed him questioningly, only to find his target's—no, his colleague's—gaze boring into him, his eyes having regained some lost spark. Karasuma took his advice, finding that the rock he indicated was indeed a good choice.

"Now that one," Korosensei supplied, this time indicating one to their right.

It was significantly harder to keep his balance with his colleague in his arms, but he wasn't the Ministry of Defense's most prized agent for nothing. He managed, and in hardly any time at all, Karasuma had stepped back onto the solid ground on the other side of the bank.

From there, Karasuma quickly made his way over to the place where the cave's entrance was supposed to be, Korosensei still in his arms.

When they reached the base of the stack of boulders leading to the supposed entrance, Karasuma set him down and stared upwards, assessing their route. The boulders looked slippery, but they possessed some good hand and footholds. Climbing would no doubt prove to be difficult, but it was by no means impossible.

"I won't be able to climb those boulders with you in my arms, and I'll be carrying my pack on my back," Karasuma said, offering him a serious stare. "Will you be able to manage on your own?"

"Of course," Korosensei said, a confident smile playing at his lips. There was something about it that seemed forced, but the spark in his eyes most certainly wasn't.

Karasuma could feel the doubt churning in his gut, but he pushed it down, lending all his faculties to the predicament at hand. His colleague was the God of Death.

And he'd promised that they'd both leave this island together.

"Then I'll go first," Karasuma said, grasping onto two rocks with his hands and pulling himself up to jam his foot in a small crevice. "Follow my course exactly."

Karasuma climbed and climbed, trying not to go too fast to allow his target time to catch up. The rocks here were slippery, and to make matters worse, the rain continued to pour from above, slamming into Karasuma's face and making the going even more treacherous. Finally, the supposed entrance was in sight, and Karasuma reached a hand up to grasp at a ledge, intending to use that grip to pull the rest of his body up and into the cave—

"Ah!"

Karasuma reacted instinctively, flinging out an arm reflexively and catching Korosensei by the wrist. By the time his brain caught up to his body, he realized that his colleague had just slipped on a rock and had nearly tumbled to his possible death, and was currently hanging freely in the open air, the only thing supporting him being Karasuma's hand on his wrist.

Korosensei seemed to realize what had almost transpired almost precisely when Karasuma did. He gazed upward at Karasuma, shell-shocked and eyes wide. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, shaking from what Karasuma presumed was the shock of the near-accident.

"I've got you!" Karasuma yelled, gritting his teeth as he struggled to support the other man's weight, feeling his own fingers slipping both on the rock and on his target's arm.

"Can you regain a foothold?"

Korosensei's feet scrabbled at the rock's surface, but found no such place for them to find purchase. His free hand searched as well, but it was in vain. He couldn't find a single reliable spot to hold onto.

"Shit," Karasuma muttered, assessing their options and feeling panic begin to set in when his grip started to falter.

He would have to pull him up. That was their only option.

Karasuma looked down at his colleague and then up again at the cave entrance, then back again to his colleague. Maybe...

"Octopus, I'm going to pull you up!" Karasuma shouted. "I'm going to pull you up and throw you into the cave. Do you think you can make a good landing?"

"What?" Korosensei exclaimed in a shaky voice, as if he either couldn't hear or believed he'd heard wrong.

Karasuma ground his teeth together as he could feel his grip slipping even further. "On the count of three, I'm going to pull you up and throw you into the cave!"

Korosensei tried to say something, but a low rumble of thunder drowned out his response. Instead, using the hand of the arm that Karasuma so steadfastly held onto, Korosensei wrapped his hand around Karasuma's own wrist and gave it a squeeze.

Karasuma understood.

"One," he started the count, summoning up all of his strength. "Two," he shouted, noticing how Korosensei tensed up, bracing himself for what was to come.

"Three!"

And with that, Karasuma drew from his last reserves of strength to pull upward as hard as he could, hurling his colleague up and straight through the thinly-veiled entrance to the cave.

By some miracle, Karasuma managed to avoid losing his own grip on the rocks beneath him, and with a steely determination, he powered up and onward until he was able to leap through the entrance himself, rolling skillfully to break his fall.

After plunging through the sudden wall of water that cascaded over the entrance, Karasuma could instantly feel the change. For one, the cave was colder. The sting of falling raindrops no longer plagued him, and the deafening roar of the storm was drowned out by the sound of the waterfall plunging toward the stream below. In the sudden quiet, he let himself lay there, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

They made it.

Finally, Karasuma regained enough strength to lift his head up and gaze at the cave, so dark that the only sight that greeted him was an inky blackness. Karasuma shrugged off his pack and fumbled for the pocket he knew held a flashlight. After some rummaging, his hand eventually curled around the smooth cylinder of the flashlight's barrel.

Karasuma flicked on the light, squinting as the cave's interior was illuminated. It didn't seem to be terribly wide, maybe fifteen feet across, but the cave certainly seemed long, its path fading into blackness as it got too far for his flashlight's meager beam to reach.

Karasuma pointed it up toward the ceiling, the light catching several glimmering stalactites. "Hey, Octopus, I don't suppose there are any tentacle bats here," he said sardonically, although a part of him was deadly serious.

The only response he received was the crashing of the waterfall outside and the steady  _drip-drip_  of the stalactites inside.

"Octopus?" he tried again, swinging his flashlight around until its beam caught the flash of a bright yellow Hawaiian shirt, its wearer lying face-down on the rocky ground, blood pooling around his middle.

Karasuma's stomach dropped.

"Octopus!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is interesting to note that while Karasuma can be uncooperative, he is at heart a team player, typical of a Ministry of Defense agent. Korosensei, while cooperative in nature, is at heart a loner, typical of an assassin.
> 
> This disconnect between them becomes most apparent in how each chooses to deal with dire situations like the one they are currently facing.
> 
> Unless Karasuma can learn to be more cooperative and Korosensei can learn to be part of a team, their survival on this island may prove impossible.


	8. Convalescence

_Drip-drip._

The steady sound of drops falling from the stalactites above was unceasing, punctuated only by the roar of the waterfall that served as a barrier between their cave haven and the dangerous outside world.

Karasuma suppressed a shiver in the cool, dank air of the cave. Nearly three days after their arrival, and his clothes still hadn't dried completely. Perhaps with air like this, they never would.

Karasuma shifted slightly as he watched the peaceful rise and fall of his colleague's chest under the jacket he'd laid on top of him. The jacket, which had been stuffed deep in his pack, had been the only dry article of clothing that Karasuma could offer the man.

When Karasuma had first discovered the octopus passed out in a pool of his own blood, Karasuma hadn't been sure that he was going to make it. He had lost a lot of blood, and Karasuma feared he may need a transfusion. Yet despite this, the octopus had miraculously clung to life, and though he was still in critical condition, so long as no complications impeded his healing, he would surely be back on his feet in the near future.

Karasuma had managed to stop the bleeding, cleaning and bandaging the wound immediately. Not for the first time, Karasuma found himself thankful for the fact that they had been able to salvage so much from the plane, including the first aid kit which contained the much needed—and thankfully,  _dry_ —rolls of bandages. In truth, Korosensei's wound wasn't that deep; it seemed the mere location of it was what caused such a large amount of bleeding. It looked like the tentacle had only grazed his side, not punched through his midsection completely, much to Karasuma's relief. As long as the wound was properly attended to, and his target managed to survive the blood loss, his survival outlook looked quite promising.

The waterfall, which ran fast with fresh stream water, left them in no state of want as far as water was concerned. It provided a more than ample supply of it to keep the octopus' wound clean and the both of them hydrated.

At present, the octopus had a slight fever and had only snatched a few delirious moments of wakefulness before falling unconscious again.

Karasuma continued to play sentinel, watching over his colleague until he would be well enough to maintain sufficient coherence of thought, so that they might together devise a plan to counteract the tentacle creatures and escape this nightmare of an island.

Up, down. Up, down. The steady rise and fall of the octopus's chest and his soft, nearly silent puffs of breath were soothing in their repetition, and despite the clammy cold of the cave, and Karasuma's soggy clothes which stuck sickeningly to his body, Karasuma soon found his eyelids drooping as sleep rushed to claim him.

He was teetering on the very edge of consciousness when a voice suddenly pulled him back to full wakefulness.

"Karasuma?" a familiar voice rasped, breaking through the calm.

Karasuma's eyes snapped open to find his colleague awake, the octopus's brow furrowed ever so slightly as his scrambled mind tried to piece together his surroundings.

Karasuma rushed to his side immediately, a cup of water in his hand. This was the first time the octopus had actually spoken since their arrival at the cave, and the prospect made his spirits soar.

"Here, drink this," Karasuma offered, shoving the cup in Korosensei's direction.

When Korosensei only stared at it dumbly, uncomprehending, Karasuma sighed and tilted his colleague's head up, raising the cup to his lips of his own accord and forcing him to gulp some down, though the majority of the water dribbled uselessly down his chin.

Almost immediately, Korosensei's eyelids began to fall shut once more, his hand moving to his bare chest in apparent repose. Karasuma laid him gently back down, about to turn and head back to his spot by the cave wall when a sudden shout rent the air.

"Where is it?!" Korosensei cried, eyes wild as his hand frantically roamed his chest. "It's gone!"

"What's gone?" Karasuma demanded, his stomach dropping as his colleague fell into a delirious panic.

Korosensei writhed before sitting bolt-upright, an accompanying cry torn from his lips as the pain of aggravating his wound shot through him, nearly causing him to fall backward again.

"Hey, stop moving!" Karasuma shouted. "You'll reopen your wound!"

Korosensei would not stop moving, though, too hysteric to be consoled. "It's gone, it's gone, it's gone!" he chanted like a broken record, voice mounting as the panic set in. His head swiveled from side to side, his hands feeling all around him in search of the missing item.

Karasuma attempted to subdue him by pinning his shoulders to the floor, but it only made him struggle that much harder. "Stop it! You're going to hurt yourself!" Karasuma hissed. Korosensei refused, continuing his pitiful assault in an attempt to shake Karasuma off.

Karasuma peered at his colleague's distressed face, hoping to discern the cause of this unexpected change of behavior. "What–?" And then it hit him.

Of  _course._

Karasuma dashed to the makeshift clothesline he had set up earlier, hurriedly pulling off the octopus' iconic crescent moon tie.

Karasuma reached his colleague just as he was attempting to struggle to his feet, but before the poor octopus could cause himself further harm, Karasuma thrust the tie into his grasp.

The feeling of the familiar object in his hand placated the hysteric man immediately, his frantic expression melting into a relaxed one as he let his body sink slowly back to the floor.

Karasuma heaved a sigh of relief, watching as his colleague brought the tie to cover his heart, his hands gripping the fabric as if it were a lifeline. Despite his grip, though, there was an inexplicable tenderness to the way he held the tie. A relieved smile ghosted across his lips, and before long, his deep, slow breathing had returned.

He was asleep.

Karasuma found himself kneeling at his colleague's side once more in an effort to assess his colleague's bandaged wound. He tried not to nudge his arm too much lest he wake him.

Luckily, there appeared to be no new damage, seeing as no new spots of blood tainted the white wrapping. Karasuma sat back on his heels, regarding his colleague once more. Then he simply sighed, pushing himself back to his feet and heading back to his spot by the wall.

* * *

As the days dragged on, Karasuma could see a definite improvement in his colleague's condition. His fever went down and then disappeared altogether, and his wound had avoided infection. The blood loss and the pain left him weak, and he accordingly spent much of the day asleep, but he regained consciousness occasionally. It was during these moments that Karasuma was able to feed him and give him water. With time, these brief periods of lucidity lasted longer and longer, and Karasuma surmised that soon the octopus would be back on his feet again. That was just as well, for Karasuma feared he'd need all the help he could get.

Karasuma had been able to make their food supply last exponentially longer than it otherwise might have thanks to his skillful rationing. Despite this, though, the supply was dwindling, and in a few day's time, it would be exhausted completely. Karasuma knew he'd have to go and find more food eventually, but with God knows how many tentacle creatures lurking beyond their cave haven, he was unsure how he'd fare. Using the most recent run-in with them as the precedent, he wouldn't stand a chance against one such creature, let alone an entire hoard of them. He had no choice but to stay put.

Moreover, Karasuma wasn't feeling so good himself.

It started with the shivers, which he initially dismissed as merely an effect of the cave's temperature and his perpetually damp clothes. That was, until the shivers progressed to a runny nose and sore throat that bugged him relentlessly, and it soon became difficult to heave himself up and care for his incapacitated colleague.

The only blanket he hadn't given to the octopus, the damp one, was of little help, and in hardly any time at all Karasuma found himself nearly incapacitated himself.

Normal colds had never managed to get the best of him, a fact which made the one currently ailing him that much more alarming. Adding to that the fact that the cave's environment was hardly optimal for recovering from sicknesses, coupled with the knowledge that their food supply was not what it once was, left Karasuma feeling rather concerned, but all he could do was hope that his colleague, at least, recovered soon.

As it was, Karasuma's acting was far from exemplary, but he had been doing a passing job of keeping his symptoms hidden from the octopus when he was awake. But if things continued as they were, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up the charade.

* * *

Korosensei slowly opened his eyes, surprised to find how easy the task had become. In recent days, even opening his eyes had been an accomplishment, let alone actually sitting up to eat or converse with Karasuma. The sight of the rocky ceiling above soon came into focus, and the now familiar sound of the roaring waterfall protecting them could be heard, and Korosensei sighed, the memories flooding back to him.

While the pain in his side was ever-present, there was a noticeable decrease since the first few days, and with each passing day, Korosensei felt better and better. Today, he felt so good he thought he might even stand, or even walk around all on his own...though he doubted Karasuma would let him.

After laying still a moment to collect himself, he groggily pushed himself up into a sitting position, but  _carefully_ , so as to not aggravate his wound. Korosensei expected his shuffling to alert Karasuma and bring him rushing to his side, so he had fully prepared himself for a deluge of Karasuma's fussing.

To his surprise, however, Korosensei received no such greeting. Instead, there was only the dripping of the stalactites, the roaring of the waterfall, and the dank atmosphere of the dark cave. Korosensei's gaze soon settled on his colleague's hunched form, slumped against the far wall of the cave, asleep. Korosensei frowned. Perhaps Karasuma had pushed himself too hard in his constant care of him? Korosensei couldn't push down the guilt that'd been hanging over him for days. He wasn't worth all this effort, yet Karasuma continued to care for him as if he was. His mind reasoned that it made perfect sense for Karasuma to be so diligent in overseeing his recovery, for they would have to leave the cave eventually, and it wasn't as if Karasuma would have any chance of besting the dangers that lurked outside all on his own. However, no matter how many times he told himself this, the guilt wouldn't leave. Curiously, it only seemed to worsen.

Korosensei struggled to his feet, his legs a bit wobbly at first and his stance certainly ungraceful, but soon enough he found his balance. Once that had been accomplished, Korosensei slowly stepped forward, one foot before the other, testing each foot's stability before placing his full weight on it. In no time at all, Korosensei had strode across the room and found himself looking down on Karasuma. Carefully, he knelt next to the other man, worried that his legs might buckle beneath him, though it appeared they were holding up just fine.

"Karasuma-sensei," Korosensei prodded, and when he received no response, he tried again, lightly shaking Karasuma's shoulder this time. "Karasuma-sensei, wake up."

Karasuma groaned and tried to shrink away, but didn't fully wake. The action allowed Korosensei a glimpse of his face, however. Korosensei's attempts to rouse his colleague came to an immediate halt.

Karasuma's face was completely flushed.

Korosensei didn't have to stick his palm to the other man's forehead to know, but he did anyway. "You're burning up!"

Korosensei withdrew his hand slowly, biting his lip. Had he done this? Surely, Karasuma had overworked himself in seeing to his recovery, neglecting his own health in the process. The rational part of Korosensei's mind countered that thought immediately: the cause of Karasuma's illness was certainly due to the cave's unfavorable atmosphere, leading to a weakening of his already vulnerable immune system. It was unlikely that Karasuma had much exposure to these parts of the world, if any, but Korosensei knew that  _he_ certainly did; as an assassin, he'd had a handful of assignments on islands no doubt in this same region. He'd already had his fair share of run-ins with native ailments and cold strains; Karasuma, on the other hand, had not. Still, the guilt persisted, and Korosensei couldn't quite shake the feeling that Karasuma's current state was all his fault.

"Octopus?"

Korosensei was snapped from his reverie. "Karasuma-sensei!"

"You're awake," Karasuma stated rather matter-of-factly, so that Korosensei was unsure if that choice piece of information was good news or bad news to him. Despite the man's inscrutable expression, Korosensei got the impression it was good news.

"I could say the same to you," Korosensei gushed. "How long have you been like this?"

"Asleep?"

Korosensei shook his head. "You know what I mean."

" _Dammit,_ " Karasuma released a long-suffering sigh. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

Korosensei fixed his gaze on him, making it obvious that he was still waiting for an answer.

Karasuma huffed, too weak to keep up the charade. "It started about a week ago."

Korosensei nodded, satisfied with his answer. "No wonder. Have you been wearing this the whole time?" He gestured to Karasuma's perpetually damp, cold clothes that still stuck unpleasantly to his frame.

"Most everything else was like this. The few dry garments we had I gave to you."

There it was, that stab of guilt again. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he always ended up causing trouble for others.

"I'll get you something to eat," Korosensei offered, moving to rummage through their packs, eager to divert the conversation from such an uncomfortable topic.

"Don't bother," Karasuma said, just as Korosensei had risen half-way to his feet. "There's not much left."

"What?" Korosensei walked over to the packs, searching first the areas that had been reserved for provisions and when he found very little, practically turned the rest of the pack inside out in his search for victuals. When his search turned up fruitless, Korosensei stepped back slowly, eyes downcast. "There's hardly anything left."

"That's what I  _told_  you," Karasuma grunted, re-positioning himself against the wall.

"With such a limited supply, I take it you divided it up into rations?"

Karasuma scoffed. "Of course."

Korosensei glared at him. "Yet the rations you gave me weren't very small at all."

Karasuma opened one eye to regard him. "You needed your strength."

"And  _you_ don't?" Korosensei crowed, now clearly irate. What was Karasuma thinking? The boulder of guilt that had settled in his stomach only grew heavier. He had tried not to be a burden to Karasuma, and yet _—_

"In case you've forgotten, you were on  _death's doorstep_ ," Karasuma reminded him. "A little cold hardly takes precedence to that."

A part of Korosensei knew he was right. If their positions had been reversed, deep down, Korosensei knew he would have done the same. Even so, he couldn't really explain it, but it  _bothered_  him.

"What were you planning to do when the food got really low? Give it all to me and just sit there until you became too weak to move?"

"You were recovering nicely. I figured that by the time it got to that point, you would be on your feet again, and we could venture out and procure more food."

That took Korosensei by surprise, evaporating his anger almost immediately. "I'm sorry... _'We?'_ "

Karasuma stared at him as if he was failing to grasp some very simple, very basic concept. "Yes. The both of us."

Korosensei guffawed. "You're in no position to be going anywhere!"

"I've made up my mind. I am not going to let this be a repeat of last time. I won't let you fend off those creatures all on your own, only to end up impaled and bleeding out on some beach."

Korosensei walked closer to him. "Now who's the one not thinking rationally? I'm the only one of us with kinetic vision. You're in no condition to face those creatures, and even if you were in prime condition, you still wouldn't stand a chance."

Karasuma grit his teeth. "Even if I can't fight them like you can, I can still provide support."

"I'm going alone. You should stay here and rest."

Karasuma bristled. "This cold is nothing. I've had worse." Almost on cue, a fit of coughing wracked his frame.

"I'm going alone," Korosensei maintained. "With my kinetic vision and experience with combating tentacles, I'll be fine."

Karasuma narrowed his eyes. "This is the first time you've actually gotten up and walked around. And your wound. You're not completely out of the woods either, you know. You think I'm just going to let you go all on your own, without support? If something happens to you..." Karasuma trailed off.

Karasuma didn't need to finish his thought for Korosensei to get the point. If he died, then Karasuma's death would be certain as well.

Then neither of them would be able to return to their students.

Korosensei knelt in front of Karasuma so that he could look him in the eye. "Karasuma, I'm going to be fine," he held his gaze steady, imbuing it with all the earnestness he could muster, hoping that some measure of his fiery resolve was conveyed in it. "Trust me."

Karasuma held his gaze just as steadfastly, and for a minute they stared, unwavering, the pregnant silence thundering in their ears and crowding in close. Korosensei had to make a conscious effort not to hold his breath in the stifling silence.

And then the muscles in Karasuma's face relaxed (well, as much as Karasuma's muscles  _could_ relax) and he bowed his head, sighing.

"You'd better come back in one piece."

Relief washed over Korosensei, and he finally let the intensity in his eyes melt into a softer expression. He allowed himself a brief smile of triumph.

"I wouldn't dream otherwise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter sounds a little dry...sleep deprivation has robbed me of my creativity (thank you, school!)
> 
> Also, sorry for taking so long to update. I will be making no more promises about when exactly I'll be updating. Just know that I will update this story more at some vague point in the future.


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